A Giant and the Lion Cub
by Zosocrowe
Summary: Three years after the birth of Kenji, the family is invited to Kyoto for a festival; Kenji takes the opportunity to venture out on his own and stir up some major trouble, while meeting some interesting people.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own RK, I never will, and I have no money to my name

12/01

Zosocrowe

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Once again, I sort of twisted time again, no one has gone anywhere, I need them to be here to complete my story…hee hee…so, if your looking for a RK fic that follows the script, I suggest you look else where.

Chapter 1

"No! Don't touch that!" The cry resounded through the Kamiya dojo with amazing force, followed by the deafening clatter of wood and metal hitting the floor.

Yahiko threw himself over the small toddler as the wooden rack came crashing down on top of them, spilling shinai, boken, and katana alike into a twisted heap all around them.

As the dust settled, the young swordsman pushed himself off of the boy, wincing at the sharp pain in his back. His heart was pounding in his ears, terrified at what the circumstances could have been, and shocked they managed to come out virtually unhurt spare a few minor bruises and bumps. He silently cursed himself for not paying attention to the quick little child, who still lay on the floor, his eyes wide with fear.

Himura Kenji was the spitting image of his father, even down to the samurai's amazing speed and quick wit. His tiny head was a lion's mane of thick, fiery red hair, pulled back into a tiny ponytail, while his eyes were an amazing pale bluish-violet, not quite the same color of his fathers, being several shades lighter in hue. He even inherited the same doe like gaze, full on innocence and wonder, but Yahiko knew that behind those gentle eyes lay a swift and calculated cunning. 

He picked the startled child up off the floor, holding him out at an arm's length, looking him over to make certain the boy was left unscathed by the accident.

As Yahiko grunted his satisfaction and set the boy down onto the floor, Kenshin came racing into the training hall, his face paling as he took in the destruction laying about the floor of the room. "Kenji!" he cried, relief flooding his expressions as the little boy giggled at his father's panicked look.

"Boom!" he laughed, pointing to the fallen rack and mess of swords.

Yahiko rolled his eyes, grabbing the boy by the nape of his small kimono, "Ya, boom alright," he muttered, shoving the squirming child into Kenshin's arms. "He's fine Kenshin, as always."

Kenji clung to his father, one hand tangling into the deep red locks of Kenshin's hair, his face twisting indignantly at Yahiko's rough treatment, "No, Yah-baka!" he shouted, pointing a tiny finger in the young samurai's direction, a small lip protruding in the process.

Yahiko sighed, Karou's genetics were not lost on the boy in the least bit. While he may not look like his mother, he definitely inherited her quick temper and fiery spirit. The combination of that element and Kenshin's wit's made the child a time bomb in Yahiko's opinion. 

Yahiko glared at the boy, "Your mom's going to be pissed when she gets home," he stated, though his comment was more directed at Kenshin, "I can't believe this is the thanks I get for saving your little butt…again," he muttered hotly, walking stiffly out the door.

Kenshin set his son on the floor, knowing that the boy was in need of scolding for putting himself and Yahiko into danger, but the rurouni was poor when it came to lecturing his son, "Kenji-chan, what you did here was very bad, that it was. You and Yahiko could have been hurt." He wished he could call upon the strength of the battousai in situations such as this, thinking maybe the even voice and hard eyes would make his son take him seriously. It was no use though, even the battousai became a puddle of mush before his son, staying hidden deeply inside Kenshin, not wanting to be beaten down by the innocence of his child's gaze. 

Kenji peered up at his father for a moment, his face growing extremely serious, as if pondering things only a child could ponder. He pointed a chubby finger behind him and stated firmly, "Mess," directing his father's attention to the rubble behind him.

Kenshin sighed and ruffled his son's hair, _"I'm hopeless,"_ he thought as he began to clean up the fallen debris.

**************

The sounds of gentle laugher and excited squeals welcomed Kaoru as she entered the gates of the dojo. She smiled lovingly and gingerly fingered the paper she held in her hand as she proceeded to the source of the ruckus.

Pausing just out of sight, she laughed softly at the scene before her. Sano sat lounging on the porch, grinning wickedly as little Kenji snatched one of Kenshin's freshly cleaned sheets off the line. He tried to run, but his short little legs became tangled into the damp fabric and he fell to the ground in a heap. Kenshin pounced onto his son's tiny form and rolled him up into the sheet, rendering the boy completely immobile. Kenji shrieked in glee as his father deposited him into the laundry basket, stating loudly how he would have to scrub that particular sheet a bit harder than the rest. 

By the state of the laundry, Karou could tell this game had gone on for quite sometime. The only laundry left on the line were the ones Kenji was too short to reach, and next to Kenshin sat a huge mass of wet, newly soiled clothes, towels, and sheets. She shook her head, smiling at her husband and son's antics.

Kenji's head popped out of the basket and turned to where she stood partially hidden. A puzzled look crossed his face but quickly gave way to frantic fumbling. "Ma! Ma!" he shouted, spilling himself onto the ground in his excitement.

"_He's his father's son,"_ Kaoru thought, stepping from the shadows, her arms held wide to embrace the energetic little boy. "Hello my little pet," she laughed, "Have you been a good boy while I was away?"

Kenji nodded his head vigorously, his small hands searching his mother's kimono for any treats she may have brought him from town.

Kenshin stood up, dusting off his hakama and smiling sheepishly at his wife, "Welcome home kioshii. Did you have a nice day in town?"

Kaoru nodded, picking her son up and moving closer to the porch. "I got the most wonderful news today Kenshin!" She pushed the paper she held in her hand at her husband, her eyes twinkling in excitement.

Kenshin scanned the paper slowly, "This is a letter from Misao dono."

Kaoru nodded, unable to stand the suspense any longer, "Yes! There's going to be a festival in Kyoto and she's invited us to come and stay with them a few days!" She looked at Kenshin pleadingly, her blue eyes dancing in delight at the idea of a festival.

Kenshin glanced at Kenji, worried how such a trip would effect the little boy, but felt himself crumble at the look in Kaoru's eyes. He nodded is agreement, "Hai Kaoru, it sounds like a fine idea." 

Kaoru threw an arm around Kenshin's neck, almost dropping little Kenji, "Thank you so much Kenshin! We'll have so much fun!" She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning away and practically skipping into the dojo.

Kenshin watched them go, his son babbling away in his mother's arms. _"Kyoto,"_ Kenshin thought, _"This will be the first time we all have gone back since Kenji was born."_ He, himself, had gone back every year to pay respect to Tomoe and visit their friends at the Aoiya, the trip was rather long, and he hoped his son would behave himself.

He smiled to himself, thinking that a trip would be a nice change of pace though, and he quietly began to rewash the laundry that sat next to him.

"KENSHIN!" he heard Kaoru shriek, "What happened to my training hall?!?"

"Oro!"

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	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimers apply

12/01 

Zosocrowe

Chapter 2

"Kenji chan, give me that towel," Kenshin pleaded to his son from inside the tub. He tried to make his face as stern and parent like as he could, but once again only succeeded in making the tiny boy laugh at him.

Kenji perched himself near the edge of the tub, his own hair barely dry from his bath. He whipped the only clean towel Kenshin had left precariously close to the water's surface. He squealed in glee each time Kenshin made a desperate swipe for the towel, pulling it away at the last minute, and moving quickly to the other side of the tub.

"Kenji, we don't have time to play games," Kenshin begged, "Your mother will be angry if we miss the train!" He knew his words were lost on the young ears and his efforts to persuade his son to give in to his wishes were in vain. The game of cat and mouse was far to entertaining for his son to give up, and Kenshin had a sneaking suspicion the boy realized his father was in a dire position. With out that towel, Kenshin would be forced to drip dry and spend half the trip in wet clothing. The samurai mentally kicked himself for not foreseeing this event and properly stocking the bathhouse.

"Kenji," he stated, making another lunge for his son's arm.

The sudden movement and sound of his father's voice caused the toddler to jump and panic, tossing the towel into the water. 

The two of them watched as the towel slowly sank to the bottom of the tub, a fine film of bubbles covering the surface of the water. "Uh oh," Kenji whispered, his pale violet/blue eyes widening, "All wet."

Kenshin sighed and ran a hand over his wet hair, picturing himself sitting on a train, in wet clothing and listening to Karou rave on about how late they were due to this incident. This day was not starting out to be a good one, and it didn't look like it would get any better any time soon. He gave his son a defeated look, "Yes, all wet," he muttered, fishing the soaked cloth out with his foot.

Kenji regarded his father quietly for a moment, then knelt down before him at the edge of the tub. "What is it Kenji chan," Kenshin asked, moving closer to his son, afraid he may have frightened the boy with his exasperation. 

He was surprised when the small boy took his face into small hands and peered closely into his violet eyes. The tiny fingers moved slowly over the ridges and creases of Kenshin's features, tickling the bridge of his nose, the arch of his brow, and the line of his lips. The hands came to rest flat against the scar on his cheek, and pale eyes met violet again in an innocent question. "Owie," Kenji breathed, tracing the scar with a small finger, his brows furrowed with worry. Frowning, the boy leaned close and softly kissed the center of the X shaped scar, and rested his cheek against his fathers wet hair.

Kenshin swallowed against the lump in his throat, his body frozen by his son's intimate gesture. He closed his eyes, his heart swelling with love for his remarkably compassionate child, "Not anymore Kenji chan," he whispered into the boy's ear, "Not anymore." He pulled away from the boy and took his face into both hands, planting a kiss on each cheek.

Little Kenji suddenly giggled at his father's affection and threw his arms around the man's neck. "Better! Better!" he cheered, completely unaware his sudden movement caught Kenshin completely off guard and threw off his balance. Kenshin slipped in the tub, his arms protectively clasping his son into his arms as he lurched backwards into the water.

Kenji sputtered as he swallowed some water, clutching his father's neck desperately. "Uh oh," he repeated, holding up a wet sleeve of his new kimono.

"I know, I know…All wet," Kenshin sighed.

***********

Kaoru gave both son and father a dirty look as she settled herself onto the train. She could hardly believe how much trouble the two of them could manage to get into with out proper supervision, and sometimes considered hiring a babysitter for them. She was one woman, living in a house full of men, and in her mind she had four children, a three year old, thirty three year old, twenty two year old, and a fourteen year old. Each one was strong willed and stubborn, courageous and bold, but none of them were capable of taking care of themselves all alone, at least not properly. They relied on Kaoru to give them the attention they craved, as a wife, big sister, little sister, and mother. Though that thought touched her heart, she still could not believe how much trouble they could be sometimes.

"I swear you two," she muttered, eyeing both father and son, "Always playing games at the most inappropriate times."

Kenji clung to his father's new black gi, his hands knotted into the collar tightly. He stared at his mother with wide, blameless eyes, his head cocked to one side in question, "Oro?"

Kaoru shook her head and Kenshin laughed, putting on his best rurouni grin. Trying to tell him the truth about what happened in the bath would only seem like an excuse and it was best not to argue with his wife right now on what actually constituted a game or an accident. "Aa, it's okay kioshii, we made it with some time to spare," he offered and hoping she wouldn't give him anymore hassle about how wet his clothes still were.

Kaoru rolled her eyes, "Where's Yahiko, he should have been here by now!" Her irritation was growing with the absence of her student, though she knew he was saying goodbye to Tsubame at the Akabeko.

Kenji stood up on his father's lap at the mention of his pseudo-brothers name, "Yako!" he shouted over and over again, bouncing on his father's thighs in excitement, his pale eyes dancing.

Kenshin grimaced as the jumping became more intense, his muscles beginning to protest the abuse, "Maa, maa Kenji chan," he groaned, trying to still the boy.

As if on cue, the dark haired swordsman appeared, throwing a knapsack into an empty seat next to Kaoru and sitting down with a loud thump. "Hiya squirt," he said, ruffling Kenji's red hair and allowing the boy to crawl onto his lap.

"Where were you," Kaoru snapped, glaring hard at the young samurai.

Yahiko returned her dark look, "I had stuff to do. I made it here on time, so why don't you shut up and enjoy the ride busu," he retorted.

Kenji looked back and forth between the pair, his little mind working quickly, "Bu-su?" he repeated, liking the way the word fell from his lips. "Busu!" he shouted suddenly, causing people to turn and look at the small family, "Busu! Busu! Busu!" His voice became louder and louder, drawing more and more attention.

Kaoru's face turned a dark red while Yahiko roared with laughter, "I'm surprised he didn't pick that one up sooner!"

"Mou!" Kaoru cried, taking her son from her student and shushing him.

**********

Kenji sat staring out the window of the train, trying to take in all the sights and sounds as the world whizzed by him. He was frightened at first, when the train lurched to a start, crying out to his mother and hiding his face in her neck, but as the trip continued, his fear gave way to curiosity, and he found courage in his adult's reassuring smiles. 

Kenshin leaned back, his hands tucked into his gi, smiling softly as he watched his son's curiosity perk here and there at this new experience. He never tired of watching his son, content to bath himself in the purity and innocence that embedded itself deep in the pale violet of his young eyes. With each angelic giggle or cherub smile, Kenshin could almost feel himself growing younger, his entire past forgotten by the light he saw in his child's eyes. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined feeling so at peace with himself, nor could he imagine knowing such happiness.

Kenji squirmed in his mother's lap. He made a small sound, almost mouse like, and yawned big. His eyes began to droop, shutting occasionally, only to have them snap back open in attempt to ward off the sleep that threatened him. 

Kenshin chuckled to himself as he watched his son battle against the lull of the train. He was actually surprised the boy made it this far, out lasting both Yahiko and his mother, both long since napping softly in their seats. Still, curiosity was a good companion to insomnia, and little Kenji was obviously intrigued by everything that was going on. Kenshin felt his own eyelids grow heavy, his families peacefulness and contentment infecting him. He waited quietly, observing his son through lowered lashes, until he was certain the boy had fallen asleep. Only then did he let himself doze off.

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Thank you to Susan, Crystal Okamino, and blackskaura for the reviews…I do have several more chapters written out, all that needs to be done is type them up and revise…sorry the chapters are so short, I'm trying to break them up some (compared to my last fic),but I have a feeling they'll get a bit longer when I get to the meat and potatoes of this fic, the first couple of chapters are introductory (their suppose to be anyway)…sigh…anyhoo, Crystal Okamino, feel free to email me any time if you decide to write a Kenji fic, I'm always glad to lend a helping hand!!!


	3. Chapter 3

Standard disclaimers apply

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Kenji meets the inhabitants of the Aoiya, a chapter full of randomness, but oh well. Hey Clarus, don't tell anyone else you figured it out, okay….LMAO…maybe I should have chosen a title that didn't give so much away…hee hee…oh well, on with the horrid story… * cringe _*_

Chapter 3

"Kaoru san! Himura san!" A high pitched voice echoed above the monotonous drone of the train station, drowning out the noise of people walking and talking. The group turned to see a short, boyish figure darting in and out between other patrons, shoving a few of them out of her way as she approached.

Kaoru smiled wide and deposited Kenji into Yahiko's arms, running to meet the girl who called her name, "Misao chan," she shouted gleefully, throwing her arms around her friend in happy reunion. The two women jumped up and down for a moment then began a boisterous chatter amongst one another.

"I'm so happy you guys made it!"

"Thank you for inviting us Misao chan!"

"How are things in Tokyo?"

"How's the Aoiya?"

"Wow, I can't believe you're here! It's been so long!"

"You need to visit us!"

"I really like your hair Kaoru!"

The men folk, who finally caught up to the women, stood spell bound, looking back and forth between them as the random chatter continued. Though the conversation dumbfounded them, it was apparent that Misao and Kaoru understood each other perfectly, with out bothering to answer each other's questions and comments. Kenji scrunched up his face and buried it into the collar of Yahiko's gi.

Yahiko patted the boy softly on the back, "I know Kenji chan, pretty scary huh?"

Kenji whimpered in response.

"OH MY GOSH!" Misao squealed, her attention drawn to the small form in Yahiko's arms, "Will you look at that!" With out thinking, she plucked Kenji from the boy samurai's arms, holding him out at an arms length to get a better look at him. She laughed mightily, and spun the boy around, "No one can say he's not yours Himura, that's for sure! He's your spitting image!" She hugged the boy tightly to her, crushing his tiny body against her ninja outfit.

"Uh, Misao dono," Kenshin started wearily.

Kenji's eyes were the size of teacups, his little mouth drawn into a startled circle on his tiny face. He had no idea who this strange woman was that tore him away from the arms of one of his trusted family members and threw him around like a doll. Her voice hurt his ears and her obnoxiously loud laughter frightened him.

A friendly child by nature, usually unafraid of strangers and use to people ogling him in the street for his exotic looks and unmatched cuteness, he often took admiration in good stride. This time, however, it was different. This strange woman went far enough to take him out of his brother's arms, to touch him as if she knew him somehow, like she had the right to carry him away from his family members saftey.

His stunned shock lasted only a few seconds, before the confusion and fear gave way to panic and anger. His deeply imbedded fighting spirit surfaced, and his small mind told him to get this little woman away from him, to fend her off and return to the safety of his mothers arms. As Misao hugged him to her, cutting off the circulation to his small limbs, he took the opportunity to bite her as hard as he could on the shoulder. He crushed his jaws together until they hurt, hearing her scream in pain as he did so, and only let go once she let her grip release him.

Kenshin sprang forward to catch his son as he fell, grabbing the back of his little kimono just before he hit the ground. The boy's pale eyes darkened into a deep purple, his tiny body shaking in fear and anger as he hung from his father's grasp. "NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!" His small voice echoed across the train station, drawing attention the scene that they created. A small group of people surrounded them, whispering amongst one another, watching to see what would happen next.

"Oh Misao!" Kaoru cried, her face strained in remorse, "Are you okay?"

Misao brushed away the tears of pain that welled in the corners of her eyes and pulled at the corner of her shirt, twisting her head to try to see the wound. A double set of teeth marks, perfect to a mold, imbedded deeply into her flesh, which was already becoming swollen and purple around the bite mark. She sucked in her breath, knowing that she would have a nasty bruise by the end of the day, but thankful the little lion hadn't broken the skin.

Yahiko doubled up on the ground, laughing so hard he had to clasp his stomach in pain. It was about time someone else was on the receiving end of one of Kenji's ferocious bites, though the boy had never bitten him that hard before. He knew what was going to happen the minute the girl grabbed Kenji out of his arms, the boy would not stand for manhandling, especially not from a complete stranger. It did not surprise him in the least that instead of crying out like the small child he was, that Kenji chose to fight back. Crying didn't suit Kenji, he rarely cried about anything.

"You're such an idiot, weasel girl!" Yahiko laughed.

Karou smacked the boy across the back of his head, "Yahiko, it's not funny," she shouted, "Show some respect!"

Yahiko snorted, rubbing his skull and glaring at her, "She deserved it! Scaring poor Kenji like that!"

Kaoru balled up her fist, but didn't bash him like he expected her too. He was right in a sense, but it still didn't make her embarrassment at her son's behavior go away. He acted like a wild animal, biting Misao so hard he nearly broke the skin. This was not the introduction she had planned for her friend and son, not at all.

Misao gave Yahiko a dirty look, but turned to where Kenshin was attempting to calm his traumatized son. "Yahiko CHAN is right Kaoru," she apologized, "I got so excited seeing him, I forgot he had no idea who I was. I'd react the same way, I think." She glanced at her shoulder again, then gave Kenji an apologetic smile, hoping he'd accept her peace offering.

Kenji bared his teeth at her in response, then wrapped his fists so tightly into his fathers long, red hair that the man winced in pain.

"Kenji chan," Kenshin groaned, trying to untangle the small fingers from his hair, but failing miserably as the boy just grabbed for more hair, not wanting to be taken away from the safety of his father. "Kenji, it's okay," Kenshin tried again, "But it was not nice to bite Misao dono, that it wasn't." He sighed in defeat as the boy continued to scowl at the girl, ignoring his father's reassurance.

**********

The group made their way to the Aoiya, stopping only once so Misao could buy a gift for Kenji, hoping to smooth the waters somehow. Luckily for her, he was easily persuaded when it came to sweets, and immediately found himself clutching the hem of her shorts, begging for more of the strange western treat she called chocolate. Karou protested giving him anything at all, afraid he'd see it as a reward for behaving like such a barbarian, but Misao insisted, accepting the entire fault for her rash actions.

By the time they made it to the Aoiya, Kenji's round cheeks and short fingers were covered in the sticky substance. 

"Kenji chan, don't rub your eyes," Kaoru warned, pulling a small hand away from the eye he was trying to scratch. He fussed at her for her interference, yanking his arm away. Karou sighed as she watched her son drag a messy hand across his brow, matting together the fine hairs of his eyebrow and lashes together in sticky clumps of brown. It was then that she noticed that the sweets had made it somehow into his ear and hair. She sighed at the mess that lay before her and looked at her husband, who smiled at his son, "He's going to need a bath," she muttered, giving Kenshin a hard look.

Misao giggled at the worn look on Kaoru's face, but thankful she wasn't the one who would have to clean the child up, it was the privilege of an aunt to give things that would cause the parents suffering. Laughing, she reached for the door of the Aoiya, but was knocked back as it flew open with amazing force. She found herself crushed into a massive bear hug, her breathing cut off.

"Your back! We've missed you Misao!" Okina laughed merrily, hugging the girl harder.

Misao sputtered, gasping for breath, "I was only gone two hours, geez gramps!" She wrenched herself free of the vice like grip of the old man.

Yahiko raised his brows and leaded closer to Kenshin, "That old guy hasn't changed a bit," he whispered.

Okina straightened his kimono and turned to their guests, his arms held wide, "Welcome back my friends! It's been quite sometime!" He smiled a goofy, lopsided smile as he gazed at each of them, his eyes finally resting on little Kenji. "Who do we have here?"

Misao tugged at his sleeve, lowering her voice, "Don't pick him up gramps, " she motioned to her injured shoulder, pulling down the collar so he could see the imprints of their first meeting.

Okina rolled his eyes and approached the little boy, who fisted a hand into his father's hakama. 

"Who might you be?" he asked, smiling at the boy, "A mini Himura san indeed!"

Kenshin smiled and patted the boy's head, "This is my son, Himura Kenji."

Okina nodded, standing up, "That's for sure, except I'd say you're the cleaner of the two." Everyone laughed, except Kenji, who just stood there, his face, hair, and hands covered in chocolate, not certain what everyone thought was so funny.

"Misao gave him some sweets," Kaoru smiled, "I'm afraid he is in desperate need of a bath."

Okina grinned and patted Kenji's head, "Children will be children. Why, Misao had to take at least three baths a day when she was his age!" The old man's eyes twinkled in mischief, "Now she's down to about two a day, but we have hope that she'll some day grow up and only need to bath once a day." 

Everyone burst out laughing, except Misao, who clenched her fist in humiliation, "That's not funny old man!"

**********

Evening closed rapidly on the Aoiya, the last traces of sunlight slowly fading behind the buildings that lined the streets of Kyoto. The sounds and smells of supper cooking wafted through the air of the Aoiya, causing hungry stomachs to growl and complain in anticipation. Kaoru chopped up vegetables with a sharp cutting knife, being strictly forbidden to actually participate in the cooking part of the dinner preparations. She didn't mind, contented to chat with Misao as she stirred a pot of stew in the corner.

Outside, Yahiko concentrated on some practice swings, while Kenshin engaged his son in a game of chase. Okina and the other members of the Oniwaban, minus Aoshi, sat on the porch, cheering little Kenji on as he desperately tried to capture his father. They all roared with laughter as Kenshin used his god like speed to vanish from his son's view, only to turn up suddenly behind him, swatting him sharply on the behind.

Kaoru could hear the merry sounds and longed to become a part of it. She quickly finished her kitchen duties, chopping up all the vegetables with amazing speed and excusing herself politely. She walked softly down the hall, finding a quiet place just inside the door to watch the melee going on outside

Watching Kenshin play with children was one of her favorite past times, ever since he came to live at the dojo with her. She wasn't sure why, but maybe it had something to do with the fascination of how such a potentially dangerous man could become so enamored in silly children's games. She was convinced he actually enjoyed behaving like a wee child himself, never becoming embarrassed when caught in the midst of a childish game. Any other grown man would not be caught dead doing such ridiculous things, but Kenshin didn't care. He was completely content to chase balls, blow bubbles, draw in the sand, or run around on all fours, laughing and smiling like an idiot the entire time. 

__

"Making up for lost time, perhaps," she thought to herself, knowing her husband had little recollection of his childhood before he was adopted by Hiko and taught to wield a sword.

Children were attracted to her husband, he told her once it was always like that, they followed him around, even as the Hitokiri Battousai, begging him to play with them. Even then he obliged them, though Kaoru found it hard to picture the younger, darker side of Kenshin behaving the way he did now with children, but she didn't doubt him in the least. He was the same man, an undying love of all things innocent and pure.

__

"They say children can see one's true heart," she thought quietly, smiling to herself as she thought of the two little girls left back in Tokyo. Ayame and Suzume adopted Kenshin as their brother the minute he stepped foot into the dojo, following him around with unfaltering devotion and love. They engaged him games little girls played, and he never objected, laughing with them, caring for them as if they were his own. They never had any doubts about his character or motives, they understood him better than any of the adults he surrounded himself with. 

The bond Kenshin shared with Kenji was very different though, she could see her husband's chains fall free every time he held, touched, or laughed with his son. Kenji was the keeper of his father's newly found joy, while Kenshin was the protector. They were inseperable, tied to each other in more than just blood, but in soul and heart as well, and strangely enough, as young as Kenji was, he seemed to understand this. He was remarkably sensitive to his father's moods and needs, so much it made Kaoru envy the relationship they had to some extent. It sometimes seemed as if Kenji could feel his father's pains and regrets, and responded to him, offering the healing touch only he possessed. They needed each other, no, Kenshin needed Kenji, the roles reversed somehow.

She chuckled as Kenshin once again disappeared before Kenji, this time hiding out of sight from him, leaving the boy standing in the middle of the yard with a perplexed and frustrated look on his face. Little Kenji would not be so easily defeated, and he remained motionless, his features twisting into intense concentration. His large eyes darkened slightly, and he turned slowly, peering carefully into the shadows of the yard, looking at something only he seemed to be able to see. _"You can't hide from him,"_ she thought to herself as Kenji squealed and took off running into the shadows cast by the large gate of the back yard. She heard Kenshin laugh, and the startled gasps of the men on the porch. Kenshin immerged from the shadows, a tiny body attached to his leg, both laughing hysterically as they made their way back to the center of the yard.

"I'm not certain what surprises me more, the Battousai with a child, or the Battousai looking truly at peace with himself," a deep, yet monotone voice said from behind her.

Kaoru turned slightly, her eyes fixing on the tall, dark form of Aoshi. His face remained stoic, impossible to read as he continued to follow her family's game play, trying to analyze and make sense of what he was actually seeing before him. She shrugged it off, having given up on trying to understand the man a long time ago. He was absolutely impossible read, but she knew she had nothing to fear from him. He was a good and honest man, a true ally in times of need.

"It does seem strange doesn't it," she answered quietly, "But he deserves the peace he now has, doesn't he?"

Aoshi answered her with a grunt and the two of them continued to watch as Kenshin fell to the ground, falling over the small form of Kenji attached to his leg. The boy pounced onto his stomach and proceeded to beat him relentlessly with a small twig. Kenshin put his arms up in front of his face, crying out in mock distress as the brittle stick tickled his wrists with each feather light hit. Kenji giggled maddeningly at his father's helplessness, bouncing up and down now on the man's stomach.

"He never did possess a hitokiri heart," Aoshi stated.

Kaoru nodded again in agreement. Her husband may have been the most feared hitokiri in Japan, but he was nothing more than a machine, a tool used during a time of war. His true heart was that of a gentle and compassionate man, but in order to complete his duties, he buried that part of him away. He could not hide his true self away for long though, the guilt and horror of his occupation became too much for his kind heart to bear. He branded himself a monster, untouchable and unhuman, doomed to wander the world and repent for his sins the rest of his life.

Healing was a slow process for Kenshin, the wheels of motion set into spin by Tomoe, his first wife and the woman who showed him a ray of light and hope inside his dark world. Destiny brought him to Kaoru's after ten years of wandering, and inside the gates of the dojo he learned to love again and be loved. The completion came with the birth of Kenji, Kenshin's life finally coming full circle and starting anew once again, but this time through the light inside his child's eyes.

Kaoru smiled as Kenji suddenly yawned big, discarding his brutal weapon and laying his head down upon his father's chest, both still lying in the dusty yard of the Aoiya. He was finished playing, too tired to move anymore, the events of the day finally catching up with his young body. Kenshin raised his head slightly to look at his son, smiling, he rubbed the boys back until his eyes closed into sleep.

Kaoru pushed herself away from the wall she was leaning on, turning slightly to Aoshi, "Children heal the heart Aoshi san," she stated, watching the blue eyes that still remained fixed upon child and father. She thought she could see a spark of something in them, maybe envy or regret, but she wasn't certain. She turned away from the man, leaving him with his own thoughts, and went to retrieve husband and child from the yard.

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Kenji's introductions to the Aoiya inhabitants is almost finished, one more chapter to go and the story will go on…I really should have combined chapter one and two together, now that I think about it, but oh well. Thank you once again to all who reviewed, your all too kind!!! Bao Blossom, Kenji rules! He can talk, but I prefer to keep him quiet, sort of like the silent protagonist, he'll have a few more speaking parts later, but not too much…I think of him as being an observant child, not finding much use for lengthy conversation….hmmm, takes after his dad I suppose….hee hee…my son was a chatter box at the age of three, (Wait, he still is…LOL), but all kids are different. I still can't believe you left your story hanging like that before you went of vacation…(evil glare)…hee hee….Sano, sorry, you made a debut in the first chapter, but that was about it, as much as I love you, you'll have to wait for the next fic…I've got some big plans for you, the Battousai, and Kenji….(evil laugh) Gypsy chan, I love your Kenji stories, in fact one of my favorites is the one about Kenji's first day of school, that is a fantastic story, I laughed so hard when I read it…Eveyone here is so great, thanks so much for your support!


	4. Chapter 4

Standard Disclaimers Apply

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Here we go, on to chapter four. J. Liha, this chapter is dedicated to you, for your Aoshi comment, I hope you like it…LOL, sounds like your mom has good taste too, my son LOVES watching RK…strangely his favorite character is Saito, go figure, he even has a plastic sword and spends hours in the yard trying to perfect his Gatousu technique (I didn't spell that right, I'm not even going to try)…Anyhoo, lets see what kind of mischief Kenji gets himself into wandering the Aoiya late at night…be warned there is some OOC for Aoshi….okay, a lot of OOC…but oh well…

Chapter 4

Misao and Kaoru sat outside on the porch of the Aoiya, gazing up at the beautiful star fill sky and taking in the fresh spring air. The streets of Kyoto were still busy, even though evening was well on its way and the city was alive with electricity and excitement for the upcoming festival that would begin tomorrow afternoon.

Misao sighed and stretched her arms out in front of her, "I can't believe Kenji chan missed dinner." She winced slightly as the movement of her shoulder caused her bruise to ache and protest. Though it was only about half a day old, the wound already was a vibrant array of purple, blue, red, yellow, tinged with a bit of green.

Kaoru noticed her friends discomfort and gave her an apologetic look, "He had a busy day today, it really wore him out," she laughed suddenly, thinking of her fiery little son, "Even a child such as Kenji has limits!" It was ironic that the boy would pass out from exhaustion so suddenly, when he normally outlasted all the adults in the family, _"We should take him on trips more often,"_ Kaoru thought to herself.

"Himura looks so happy now," Misao said suddenly, tilting her head back to gaze at the stars, "He laughs and smiles like he means it." Her words tapered off, as she became lost in some lingering thought, oblivious to the world around her.

Kaoru watched her friend, noting the look of longing and sadness deep inside the girl's eyes. _"You're thinking of Aoshi san, aren't you Misao chan."_ Kaoru empathized with the younger girl, knowing what it was like to live so close to the one you loved, but not understand them in the least bit. She and Kenshin had tiptoed around each other, pretending to be indifferent to their feelings, both afraid of what the future would bring, but in the end, love brought them together. She wanted to offer reassurance to the girl, but found she had no words. She didn't know what Aoshi thought of the sparse ninja girl, and false hope would only hurt her more.

Misao's love for the okashira was deep, so deep in fact, she followed him across Japan and back. His return to the Aoiya was a blessing from the gods, but the past years resulted in nothing more than stony, mutual respect between the two. Aoshi spend most of his time locked in his room, meditating or pouring over paper work. He hardly spoke to anyone, maintaining a cold, steely persona, never allowing anyone to see inside his soul or heart.

"Don't worry Misao chan," Kaoru finally said, unable to bare the sight of her friend in such heartache, "I'm sure things will work out for the best." Her words held tinges of hope, but offered no definite possibilities. Misao could take the comment as she saw fit.

"Thanks Kaoru chan," she smiled warmly, "I'm sure they will." 

Her thoughts drifted back to the Himura boy and his father, playing so carefree in the yard earlier than evening. She could picture the vibrant smiles of the two, unrestrained, full of love and joy. She wondered if children would bring Aoshi such happiness, but found if difficult to picture him playing with a son or daughter the way Himura san played with Kenji. Certainly Aoshi wouldn't be caught dead rolling around in the dirt, laughing like a school boy, but then again, seeing the former Hitokiri Battousai doing the very same thing seemed strange as well.

********

Aoshi sat inside his study, surrounded by pile upon pile of papers and books. He read silently in the dim light, engrossed in some sort of financial report. He took a sip of tea, frowning at a certain passage he didn't find agreeable, and picked up a pen to make note of it.

The Aoiya was unnaturally quiet, and for some reason that broke his concentration greatly. He knew that the men folk left to spend some time in town, taking Himura and the boy samurai with them, but the women were strangely silent as well, sitting outside perhaps, enjoying the spring evening. Still, he expected it to be a little livelier with visitors, surely Misao and Okina would engage in some sort of ludicrous tiff, or the Himura woman would beat her husband and student senseless for leaving her behind, but it never happened. 

He once scoffed at Himura for putting up with such simpletons, not understanding why such a strong man would allow himself to belittled by such common people. There was no doubt in his mind that the Battousai actually enjoyed listening to his wife yell at him, or seeing her beat that arrogant student of her senseless each day. The red hair samurai even pledged a unique and deep friendship with the dense and cocky ex gangster, Sanosuke. It absolutely baffled him, even bothered him to some extent, but since his return to the Aoiya, he was beginning to understand.

Though it took some time for him to realize it, he actually enjoyed listening to Misao's constant, relentless babbling. The twittering of her voice always caught his attention, though he did well in hiding it. He actually could go so far to say he looked forward to the hasty rancor that constantly caused Okina and Misao to fight and tease one another day in and out. He had no idea why he found these things entertaining, but somehow it made him feel a bit more secure in this place he called home.

He squinted against the dimming light of the lantern before deciding it best not to give himself a headache. He slowly rose to light another in the corner of the room, but froze immediately as he felt someone watching him. He peeled his gaze away from the paper in his hand and guided it carefully to the doorway, which was left partially open to allow some fresh air into the room. Cold, blue eyes settled on the tiny form that stood just inside the room, clutching a small blanket in one hand.

Kenji's flame red hair stood out this way and that, ruffled from sleep, and his tiny yakuta was twisted about his waist in an unusual angle. Large eyes drooped tiredly as he gazed back at Aoshi with mild interest.

He had woke up and discovered himself in a strange room, his parents were no where to be seen, yet he did not cry out like a normal child would. Instead, he gathered his blanket and set out to find them, a solid sense of love and trust holding any worries and fears of abandonment at bay. 

Strangely enough, his late night wanderings did not unearth his parent's whereabouts, but brought him up short at the door of the dimly lit room. The presence inside was far to intriguing to pass up, and being an inquisitive child by nature, Kenji chose to investigate. 

The man he found inside was mildly intimidating, but Kenji was too tired to really care. He watched the man for several moments before he padded quietly into the room, dragging his blanket behind him and rubbing one eye free of sleep. He stopped when he reached the edge of the tall western style desk, peering up questioningly at the blue eyed man before him. "It's dark," he stated.

Aoshi blinked in surprise at the silky soft tone of the child's voice. The pale eyes, lined with sleep watched him closely with out fear, waiting patiently for the man to respond.

Aoshi wasn't sure what he was to do. Children rarely approached him freely, usually shying away from his stoic demeanor and silent brooding. Small eyes always watched him cautiously, running to hide behind their mother's skirts when he met their weary gazes, but this child was waiting for him to speak, his look almost demanding. 

_"He reminds me of Misao chan when she was little," _he thought. He could remember sitting in the yard of the Aoiya as a tiny Misao played recklessly with Hannya and Shikijo, the small girl completely oblivious to her companion's frightening characteristics. She saw them only for what they really were, good, honest, loving men, who would do anything for her. She never passed judgement on them for being different and such courage was often lacking in small children, yet standing before him, he saw the same strength and defiance inside the Battousai's child that the little Misao once had.

Aoshi moved from behind his desk, closing in on his small intruder, his expression perplexed._ "Why isn't he frightened of me like all the rest?"_ he though to himself. The boy didn't even take a step back as Aoshi stooped low, leveling him with an icy gaze. The child actually gave him a bored, if not pitiful look, small brows arching slightly at the sudden closeness. 

__

"Where does he get his confidence?" Aoshi frowned, his mouth turning downward compared to his usual straight lipped expression. 

Aoshi studied the boy and almost smiled at the uncanny resemblance between father and son, "What's the matter Himura chan," he asked, surprised at the gentle tone of his voice, "Your not afraid of the dark are you?"

Kenji shook his head, his loose mane flopping here and there.

Aoshi cocked his head slightly, "Well, we should put you back to bed." He scooped the child up into his arms, mildly surprised at how light and frail the boy was, but quickly remembering whose child he actually was, "It's too late for you to be up and your parents will be worried when they find you missing." He carefully tucked Kenji's blanket under one arm and shifted the child to rest on his hip, his years of raising Misao not completely lost on him yet.

"They find me," the boy said in his soft, quiet voice, "Father will."

Aoshi's brows shot up, the sureness and lack of concern in the boy's tone catching him complete off guard.

"I not tired," Kenji continued, squirming in the man's arms and pulling himself up to peek over the broad shoulder. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the desk behind them, strewn with papers and other miscellaneous items.

Aoshi stood frozen, feeling the child's warm breath against his ear and the tiny hand that worked its fingers unconsciously against his neck. He held the boy in his arms, trying to reason out the situation at hand, but his mind was flying out of control with confusion. His solid resolve and thick, steel walls began to crumble around him at the irreproachable nature of this child. The Himura boy's innocence was intoxicating and his curiosity infectious, somehow igniting a kindling flame inside Aoshi's heart that had long since died out. Suddenly, like a spell had been cast, Aoshi found himself actually wanting the child's company, to watch him and learn from him, as strange at it sounded in his own mind.

For the first time in many years, Aoshi gave into his desires and shoved logic into the corner of his brain, tucking it away for reasons even he couldn't understand. He knew the best thing would be to put the child back in his room, but a sneaking suspicion told him that the boy wouldn't stay there very long. He could remember the sleepless nights he had, trying to keep a little Misao tucked into her bed, only to find her curled up next to him an hour or two later. His only option was to bar the door shut to keep her in her own room, but he could never bring himself to be so cruel. He endured the kicking and failing arms of her wild sleep, calming her restlessness only when he held her close to him in a tight embrace.

He sighed to himself and turned back to his desk, "That's work, Himura chan," he shifted the boy in his arms, "If your good, you can stay here for awhile with me, until your father comes to get you." He could hardly believe the words came out of his own mouth, normally content to spend countless days locked away in the study, having no contact with anyone except those who brought him food and drink. It seemed absolutely preposterous that the he, the master of meditation and control would suddenly desire the company of a mere toddler.

He shrugged it off, deciding to humor himself and Kenji, telling himself the boy's parents would discover him missing and find him soon enough. Until then, he would watch over the child and make sure he was safe from any harm or trouble.

Carefully depositing the small boy onto the desktop, Aoshi moved away some of the papers and ink wells, making more room for the two of them. He settled into his horribly uncomfortable wooden western style chair, before removing Kenji from his current place on the desk and into his lap. He picked up the paper he had earlier been reading and began to study it once again, though not really seeing the words. His mind was focused more on the tiny figure positioned in his lap.

Kenji sat quietly, his hand folded politely in lap, tucked away in the folds of his yakuta. Inculpable eyes studied the writings on the paper before him with intense interest. The striking contrasts of black on white, the random patters of kanji completely captivating him. He remained unmoving as Aoshi took a pen and dipped it into an ink well, his eyes watching each movement of the mans hands intently, as if memorizing the gentle strokes and sweeping lines. 

Little fingers twitched inside their hiding place and Kenji squirmed in Aoshi's lap. He made a small noise and turned to look at the dark haired man with wide, curious eyes.

"Hmm?" Aoshi could see the question in the boy's face, and he glance quickly at the pen in his hand, "Would you like to try Himura chan?" He pulled a few blank pieces of paper out from underneath a stack of books and placed it before him. He was certain the boy could not read nor write, being far to young to understand schooling of that sort, but he remembered Misao spending hours scribbling away on sheets of paper. Her drawings never made any sense, but it didn't matter, just so long as she was kept happy.

He placed the pen in Kenji's hand, showing him how to hold it properly, then nodded at the boy.

The pen was large and heavy in Kenji's small grasp, he held it awkwardly as he made a few random swipes across the paper. He paused slightly, seeing the thick dark lines that he had made, absolutely fascinated with his creation. The movement of his small hand slowly increased and soon the paper was full of various lines and inkblots. "Look't that," the boy giggled, holding up his masterpiece, obviously pleased with his artwork. The admiration was only fleeting though, and he tossed the doodle to the floor before grabbing a fresh sheet of paper, his scribbling becoming intensely ferocious as his excitement grew.

Aoshi could feel the corners of his mouth twitch in amusement as he watched the youngster laugh and draw, throwing papers here and there once they served their purpose. To be so carefree and able to find joy in something as simple as pen and paper was indeed a wondrous thing, and just watching the giggling boy in his lap play so freely refreshed his own worn and weary mind. Compared to adults, children were the smart ones. They let nothing pass them by, grabbing each new experience and taking it for all it was worth, not fearing the what-ifs and why-nots that plagued the minds of adults. If only people could remain small, the world would never know harshness and despair.

He wasn't quite certain how long the Himura boy was in his room before he felt a strong, familiar presence standing at his door. The boy noticed it as well, his animated scribbling halting suddenly as his attention snapped to the door.

"Oro?" he whispered, mimicking his father's unique exclamation.

Kenshin emerged from the shadows of the hall, his expression slightly worried, yet overwhelmingly perplexed. Upon his return to the Aoiya he found his wife outside and Kenji missing from their room. He did not bother to inform Kaoru of the child's absence, knowing she would unleash utter chaos in her panic, when the boy was undoubtedly still inside the building. It did not take Kenshin long to locate his small fugitive, but the last place he expected to find him was seated on the lap of Aoshi Shinomori.

Kenshin had to blink twice to believe what he was seeing. The two of them were surrounded by heaps of discarded papers, each one full of harsh lines and blobs of ink. Pens and inkwells were tossed carelessly around the room, obviously thrown away into he corners once their purpose had been served.

Kenji smiled big at his father, pale eyes dancing in delight. He turned to look up at Aoshi, "See," the boy said pointedly, scrunching his eyes closed in glee as the man nodded slightly in agreement.

Kenshin had to force his mouth to remain shut, knowing his jaw would hit the floor if he dared open it. It was strange enough to see the cold, stone-faced man entertaining his son, but now it was apparent they actually had a conversation with one another. His mind told him he was seeing things, perhaps he had too much saki in town, though he didn't feel drunk.

Aoshi noted the bewildered look on the samurai's face, "He said you would come for him," he stated, moving Kenji off of his lap and pushing the boy gently towards his father.

"Is that so," Kenshin replied, still staring at the man, trying to read his expression, but failing.

"Hai."

Kenshin tore his gaze away from Aoshi, ashamed at his unintended rudeness, he did not mean to stare at the man so, but it was impossible to hide his shock, "I'm sorry Shinomori san, I hope he did not disrupt you too much." Kenshin was well aware of the mass destruction his son was capable of, and was relieved to find that the study and Aoshi were both still intact.

Aoshi just shrugged indifferently, moving to pick up the mess that surrounded him. "He wasn't that big of a distraction, " he stated, keeping his voice monotone and cold, "But I think it best you not leave a child like that unattended for to long."

Kenshin frowned at the man, slightly perturbed at Aoshi's barb, "I see," he stated, moving stiffly to where his son stood, "Thank you for watching over him Shinomori san, I'll let you get back to work. Those are some very interesting drawings you're working on there." Kenshin smiled smugly as he bent down to pick up his son, allowing his sharp retort to sink in for a moment. By the state of the room, it was apparent Aoshi hadn't been working at all, instead he was playing with little Kenji, and Kenshin wasn't going to let it slide past him, not now at least.

Aoshi glared hard at the red haired samurai, but did not bother to return the chide. 

Kenshin held Kenji close to him, "Kenji chan, you should be in bed," he stated in his sternest voice, "And it's not polite to bother Shinomori san. He's very…" His voice became muffled as Kenji placed two tiny hands over his father's mouth, staring deeply into the violet eyes. Content that his father was properly shushed, he turned back to the tall man watching them from the corner of the desk, and cast him a large, warm smile.

Kenshin shook his head slightly as he took noticed of the small sparks of light in Aoshi's icy eyes and the slight twitch of his mouth, "Kenji chan, lets go to bed," he stated, wanting to leave all of this behind him for now, but knowing he'd be up half the night thinking about what he just witnessed.

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In all honesty, I hated Aoshi when he made his first appearance in the series…I couldn't stand the guy, but now seeing some 60 episodes, and reading the Revenge arc, I like him…he's a particularly deep character…I had a tough time with this chapter (it shows too, but life goes on)…Thanks Sakura Seta, for pointing out my mistake! People have been spelling my given name wrong for 25 years, you'd think I'd be a little sensitive to something like that…hee hee…thank you! Jason M. Lee, good point, wish I would have thought of that earlier, though lion cubs are cuter and cuddlier than dragonites…LOL…Susan, thanks for your support and consistent reviews! All of you who have reviewed this fic are fantastic, it's an honor to have you read my story when so many of you are fantastic, talented writers! Thank you so much!


	5. chapter 5

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Ahhh, I'm sorry for the long delay for this chapter…normally, I'm a bit quicker at putting up chapters, but apparently my computer is having other ideas. I've had to reinstall Explorer, for some reason it was deleted from the computer (I didn't do it, I swear…I turned it on and it was GONE…along with some other files), it only works part of the time, freezing up on me to the point I can't even shut the thing down…sigh…I was able to review fics from work, but alas, all my files are here, at home…GASP…I'm hoping that I can manage to get this chapter posted with out too many problems….anyway…the story goes on. Kenji is working his magic at the Aoiya, and the day of the festival has arrived. Happy New Year to you all, thanks for reading…

Chapter 5

The morning sun was steadily burning away the last of the spring dew and bathing the streets of Kyoto in a pleasant, warm light. It was a perfect day, in all its splendor, for a festival. People already moved through the streets, bustling here and there, the excitement adding a merry spring to their steps as they made their way to some destination.

The Aoiya was alive as well, the excited chatter of the upcoming events filled the restaurant as the last of the breakfast dishes were swept away to the kitchen. The inhabitants moved here and there, gathering garments, counting spending money, and discussing what they would do during the afternoon festivities. 

The continuous and infectious laughter was slowly drown out by a heated argument coming from one of the back rooms, near the bath house. Misao held her kuni in a fist, trembling in rage at an equally angry Yahiko. Both squared off, towels in one hand, weapons in the other, as an irritated Kaoru tried to still her naked son.

"Ladies should go first," Misao shouted, shaking her kuni-laden fist at the boy.

"Show me a lady and I'll let her go first weasel face," Yahiko retorted, a wicked smirk on his face.

Misao roared in outrage, her face indignant and murderous, causing a little Kenji to leap into his mother's arms. Kuni flew through the air, piercing the wall behind the young samurai. Yahiko yelped in pain, cowering on the floor, his hands clasping the sides of his head.

"You got some of my HAIR," he shouted, rubbing a sore spot on his scalp.

"Lucky you," Misao retorted, "I was aiming for an EYE!"

Once again the two stood before each other, black gazes foretelling their intentions, both seething with anger. Only one of them would make it to the bath alive, but the winner would go on badly brutalized, that was apparent.

Kaoru cleared her throat, hoping to clear the air a little bit. "Umm, Misao chan," she asked quietly, jerking her head in the direction of the doorway.

Misao turned slightly, flames leaping in her eyes, ready to unleash an unmatched rancor on the person who had interrupted her battle. Like a wave crashing against a lone ember, the fires died as she found herself looking at the indifferent face of Aoshi. Her heart did a couple somersaults, before falling flat into her stomach. Her face paled in embarrassment, caught once again acting like a little child. "Aoshi sama," she whispered.

Strikingly dressed in a white kimono, his ninja attire and trench coat discarded for the day, the man was a sight to behold, even causing Kaoru's breath to catch a little. Piercing eyes gazed out at his young charge from beneath still wet hair that clumped together in disarray in an appealing fashion. His bare feet made no noise as he walked into the room, studying the source of the ruckus, his face betraying nothing. In one hand he held a damp towel, folded neatly against long, slender fingers.

Kenji squirmed away from his mother, his body draped in nothing but a bath towel, his own hair wild and knotted, demanding a combing. He darted over to his new playmate and tugged on the hem of the kimono, pale eyes looking at the tall man questioningly, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Up," he directed, holding out his small arms to illustrate his point.

Kaoru made a sound of protest and moved to grab her boy before he could assault the former okashira any further. Men such as he had no patients for children, and she did not want him to feel uncomfortable in his own home. "Kenji chan, do not bother Shinomori san," she scolded.

With out looking down at the boy, Aoshi scooped him up and held him into the crook of his arm. His motions were nonchalant, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. His expression was impassive, even though he could see the startled look of the three people before him, but he ignored their bewilderment, and greeted the boy with an almost friendly "good morning". 

Kenji just laughed, oblivious to the stunned stares, and squished Aoshi's cheeks together in fishlike like fashion with small hands.

"The bawf ish weady," Aoshi informed them, ever stoic, between pinched lips.

Misao and Kaoru glanced at each other, eyes wide with question and concern. Both women fought the urge to run over and feel the man's forehead for fever as Yahiko dropped his boken on the floor, his jaw going slack at the sight before him.

Kaoru managed to overcome her stupor, moving quickly to wrench Kenji's prying hands from the man's mashed face, relieving him of the child. "Ummm, thank you Shinomori san," she stuttered, "I, uh, uh…" . She tried to find the words to apologize for her son's boldness, but found herself at a loss.

Aoshi nodded, knowing what she meant to say, and patted the boy on the head slightly before turning to fix his gaze upon the skinny ninja girl. "Misao," he said, his voice commanding and dominating. The lanky girl leapt to attention, ready to comply to his every order, no questions asked. 

"Y-Yes Aoshi sama!"

The tall man hesitated slightly, his brow furrowing in some thought, as if words were trying to elude him. Mentally, he braced himself and sighed inwardly at his cowardice, "I'll be leaving soon for the festival. I expect you'll be appropriately dressed and ready to depart when I come for you." His voice maintained it's authoritative edge, but there was a hint of question laced into the words.

Misao's eyes grew wide and she felt her knees go weak, "H-hai," she replied shakily, watching him nod slightly at her agreement before departing the room.

Kaoru's hand flew to her mouth in absolute wonder. The invitation was gruff, but she expected nothing less from the pensive young man. Her heart soared for Misao, and she prayed that this would be a stepping stone for a wondrous relationship for the pair.

"Did that just really happen," Yahiko muttered from the corner of the room, bending down to pick up the wooden sword he dropped earlier.

"I don't know," Misao breathed, her face still pale, dark eyes wide and fixated upon the doorway.

Yahiko grunted in disgust at the feminine display and slung his towel around his neck, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that iceberg just asked you out."

Her knees finally giving out, Misao slumped to the floor in a heap. Her heart pounded in her ears, unable to believe that the day had finally come when Aoshi had actually requested her company. It was hardly a declaration of love, but his offer somehow chipped away some of her doubt and fears about his true feelings.

"What am I going to wear," she muttered, remembering how he asked she be dressed appropriately for the festival. The ninja attire she normally wore would not do, it was to be set aside and replaced with clothing that was socially acceptable. She did not own a kimono, at least not one that would fit her anymore, having cast aside much of her femininity as she advanced in the ninja arts. She covered her face with her hands, hoping to ward away the tears that threatened to fall.

Kaoru smiled at her friend and put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Oh Misao, I'm so happy for you," she gushed, "I brought an extra kimono with me in case my new one got dirty! It will look fantastic on you!" She urged the girl to stand up, giving her a quick hug, "This is going to be such a wonderful day!"

"Oh brother," Yahiko muttered, "Quit with the girlie talk already, I may get sick! Don't you have a bath to take?" He pointed the end of his sword at Misao before turning on his heel, exiting the room with Kenji in tow.

************

Kenshin slumped against the wall of his family's room, his face flushed and sweaty, but set in definite satisfaction. An hour had gone by since he tackled the task of dressing his son, such a simple feat for any parent with a normal child. 

It started out innocently enough, Kenshin approaching his son with the new, forest green kimono hidden behind his back, hoping the child would succumb to the dressing with out too much fuss. Kenji would not be easily fooled though, he took note of his fathers insanely pleasant tone and the wide, too friendly and forced, rurouni grin that plastered itself across his face, instantly knowing something was definitely not right. His eyes narrowed as his father approached and Kenshin immediately knew the game was up, even before it started.

At the sight of the new kimono Kenji bolted for the door, but Kenshin used his lightening speed to catch the boy before he reached the exit, wrestling him to the floor. Kenji squealed in anger at his father, kicking and scratching as he was pinned to the floor, his yukata stripped away and the wicked green kimono looming above him. Kenji twisted against his father's arms, eyes dark violet now, and his small voice screeching like a wounded animal.

Kenshin grit his teeth, his hold slipping from the young boy's naked body, which was worked up into a slick sweat from his ferocious fighting. "Kenji chan, what is the matter with you," he hissed, trying to shove an arm into the clothing. He hated this task, the outraged cries of his child nearly breaking his spirit, knowing he was the source of such anger and discomfort. The boy was not in any pain, Kenshin would never allow himself to be so rough to actually harm the child, he'd rather let to go boy naked than inflict any injury on him.

Kenji took advantage of his father's disheartened spirit, "No father! No! No!" he cried pathetically, hoping it would be enough to make the red haired man retreat. A small lip began to quiver and large eyes of dark purple welled with tears. 

Kenshin blanched, the dagger hitting its mark with deadly accuracy. His expression was pained and he lessened the grip on his son's tiny form, feeling his heart twist inside his chest. _"Why couldn't you do this, Kaoru,"_ he thought bitterly, knowing Kenji would not give his wife half the trouble he gave him. She often told him he needed to toughen up or the boy would run all over him when he was older. There was no getting older about it though. The minute the boy was born, his tiny fingers already had his father twined tightly into their small, but solid grasp. 

As Kenshin's grasp lessened Kenji took the opportunity to wrench himself free, grabbing the horrid kimono out of the surprised man's hand and flinging it away from him like a venomous snake. He darted to the other side of the room, little chest heaving, and prepared himself for his father's next advance. 

Kenshin sat back on his haunches, eyeing his son. _"Cunning little devil,"_ he thought to himself. He would have praised the boy for using such quick wits if the situation had not put himself at such a disadvantage. In any other match, thinking like that would be useful, but Kenshin did not want to draw this out any longer than he had too, nor did he want to be out witted by a three year old. The kimono now lay in the opposite corner of the room, if he left his current position, the door would be left free and clear. Kenji knew how to open doors, moving would surely let the boy escape. Kenshin's eyes scanned the room for an answer.

Kenji cried out in dismay as his father moved a heavy table in front of the door.

Kenshin turned around to face his son, wiping his brow slowly. "Okay Kenji chan, you can't get away, so let's end this," he pleaded, hoping his son see his loss and comply. 

There was no escaping his room, his father, or the new kimono. Kenji was aware of this, and the knowledge only made him angrier. He glared at his father, hands balled into tiny fists at his sides. He couldn't flee, but he would go down fighting before he succumbed to that horrid thing lying in the corner, that he was sure of. 

Kenshin sighed, feeling the flare in his son's ki, and made his move. Kenji could not match his speed, but he could match his intensity. Once caught, the boy continued to howl and cry, the echo of his voice causing by passers to stop in the street and stare worriedly at the Aoiya. He kicked hard, his small foot connecting with his father's chest, stomach, shoulder, whatever happened to get into the way of the flailing legs and arms. Several times he managed to get a hold of the kimono and toss it away, but Kenshin only drug him along the floor to retrieve it, refusing to let the boy free of his grasp. 

As the ruckus insued, Okina and even Aoshi came to stand outside the door, both worried about what was going on inside. "Himura san," Okina yelled from the door, glancing at Aoshi, "Is everything alright in there?" A mighty yell and muffled curse was their reply.

Kenji bit down on his father's arm, grinding small teeth into soft flesh. Kenshin cried out in pain, wrenching his wounded arm away from the boy, but catching him by the nape of his neck with the other hand. Kenji gasped, startled at what he'd done. His bites were reserved for Yahiko and Sano, never his father or mother. With frightened eyes he met his fathers stern gaze, knowing he'd gone too far this time. Violet eyes flecked with amber stared back at him, not threatening, but disapproving and slightly angry. Kenji lowered his gaze in defeat, something inside him telling him to subdue himself to his father, that the fight was lost.

He allowed himself to be dressed in the crisp new fabric with out a hassle. No words were uttered, not even a scolding, which part of him wished for. He was forced to stand in the stony silence of his fathers hardened gaze, his arms out stretched as this clothing was righted around his small frame and the obi tied into place. He watched the violet eyes dance with yellow light, sensing it was best to remain seen and not heard.

Now, an hour since the beginning of the ordeal, Kenji sat huddled across from his father, his face drawn into a dark gaze at the wood of the floor. An eternity of silence passed between them, father and son regarding each other carefully, not certain how to proceed. Kenshin's anger at his son's biting attack was fleeting, dying as soon as he saw the horror on Kenji's face. The boy did not mean to bite him, it was a fighting reaction, nothing more, not deliberate like those Sano and Yahiko received. He chose not to scold, burying the half of him that was capable of delivering a decent tongue lashing if necessary, slightly frustrated he'd even shown that side of him to the boy at all. Kenji would deal himself his own punishment, the hint of it already evident on his face.

Kenji met his fathers gaze, he uttered a sigh of defeat, and stood up slowly from his place on the floor. He looked down at the new kimono, disgust etching itself into his small features. "No good," he muttered, holding up an arm, the fabric swishing as he waved the limb slightly.

Kenshin arched a brow at his son, "What Kenji chan? You don't approve of the color?" He smiled slightly, extending a hand to the boy, an offering of peace and forgiveness. He felt his smile widen as the boy folded himself into his fathers lap, clinging the fabric of his gi and burying his face deep in the cloth. It was all over, done and forgotten. Kenshin hugged him close, pressing his cheek to the boy's soft hair and inhaling its sweet scent.

"Still no good," Kenji sniffed, wiping his nose on his father's gi. 

Kenshin released his son from his embrace and held him out at an arms length. "What," he asked, looking puzzled. He noticed Kenji looking down at the kimono he now wore, picking at the hem. It was obvious he detested the thing, though it made no sense to Kenshin. The boy was far to young to be sensitive about the clothing he wore, but what went on inside his son's little mind sometimes was beyond him. "You look nice Kenji," he smiled, " Green suits you, that it does." 

Kenji huffed at his father. He didn't care what color the kimono was, it was the newness that irritated him. Playing wasn't permitted while wearing new clothing. His mother would scold him greatly if he got one stitch of the deep green fabric dirty. Once the new kimono was set into place, he knew his day would be full of nothing but boredom, forced to behave like a proper boy should while people ogled over his neatness. New kimono's came with restraints, and Kenji hated to be held down. He sighed heavily and fingered the obi, glancing at his father.

"Don't even think about it," Kenshin warned, his eyes flashing amber briefly.

Kenji wrinkled his nose at his father, dropping his hands into his lap.

**********

"Why are girls always so slow," Yahiko whined, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other, "A fancy kimono and new hair-do isn't going to do either of them much good anyway." He heaved an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes.

Kenshin smiled softly to himself, knowing that someday Yahiko would come to appreciate the time and effort a woman spent on herself. He'd think his Kaoru was beautiful if she dressed herself in a gunnysack, and he frankly didn't care if she chose to wear something ordinary and plain to the festival. He had to admit though, when she did dress herself up, it made his blood boil with intense heat. A wicked grin crept across his face, and he found himself trying devise a plan to allow himself and wife some time alone.

"Himura, stop grinning like that."

Aoshi's voice brought him crashing out his provocative dream and he felt his cheeks redden. Kenshin glanced at the two young boys sitting on the porch, both totally mesmerized that they witnessed the red haired samurai with out the polite and innocent rurouni mask. For a brief moment, he actually looked completely sinful. 

Kenshin looked to Aoshi, who only gave him a knowing, but disapproving look.

The door slid open, rescuing the rurouni from any further embarrassment, and the two young women stepped out into the afternoon sun. Kaoru smiled brightly, adjusting the sleeve of her radiant, crimson kimono. The fabric caught the light perfectly, adding almost and iridescent shine to the light cloth. Golden butterflies and dragonflies dancing along the hemlines and trailed up her back, sparkling in the sunshine. Her dark hair was pulled back into a roll on her head, held in place by several beautiful, golden pins. 

Picturing himself removing those pins from his wife's long hair, and watching it fall about her shoulders, Kenshin could feel his evil smile return. He moved to his wife's side, his gaze almost smoky with want, "You look stunning koishii," he whispered in her ear. He took her hand in his, allowing his thumb to caress her silky skin in a private, needy touch. Kaoru blushed at her husband's obvious desires and cleared her throat nervously, "Thank you," she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I can't do this," said Misao's frustrated voice from her retreat just inside the doorway. "I can't walk in this thing," she cried, her voice cracking slightly, giving away her distress.

Kaoru turned away from Kenshin, and pulled the skinny girl from the room, "You'll get use to it Misao chan, don't worry!"

Misao stood on the porch, her head bowed to her chest in embarrassment, hands clasped white knuckled in front of her. The white kimono with a navy trim hindered her movement greatly, and the obi was uncomfortably tight. Never had she felt so helpless and weak, but at the same time, she felt more like a woman now than she ever had in her life. She could feel Aoshi's eyes wander up her slight frame in approval. Her cheeks flushed slightly, wishing he wouldn't stare at her so. "I feel so dumb," she muttered.

Aoshi raised a brow and the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. He nodded his approval and extended a hand to the discomforted girl, "Shall we go," he asked to the group.

Karou giggled like a little girl, her excitement bubbling out, "Today is going to be such a great day!" She picked up Kenji and leaned against her husband slightly as the group proceeded into town.

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Hmmm….I don't have anything to say…surprisingly….I'll have the next chapter up soon, it's all written, and the fun is going to take an interesting turn…well, at least I hope so…I have a tendency to re write my fics when I type them…so I could very well be lying to you….hee hee….


	6. chapter 6

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I'm absolutely amazed at how people can eat with chopsticks…it's an art form in its own and I'd love to learn how it's done, but I can barely eat with a fork, so I know I'd be hopeless….I came to this conclusion while eating some fried rice the other day (most of it ended up in my lap)…this has nothing to do with my story, I just thought I'd share that with everyone who reads this….Anyhoo, Kenji's on an outing with his new friends and parents…it think that's all I'll say for now….until the end of the chapter…

Chapter 6

Heads turned and people whispered as the group of proceeded down the streets of Kyoto, dressed in their finest clothing, laughing and talking amongst one another. Each person was exquisite in his or her own right, beautiful and alluring, meant to be noticed from the moment of birth. It couldn't be helped to stop and stare as a magnificent looking man with beautiful hair the color of fire and gem like violet eyes strolled down the dusty street with his porcelain skinned, raven haired beauty and equally striking son. Behind them a tall man with the eyes as blue as the ocean, his features sharp and rugged walked in silence with a small girl, as frail and delicate as a bird, her hair so black it held a bluish tint as the sun glinted off of the silky tresses that fell free around her face. They were all oblivious to their admirers, inattentive to the looks of wistfulness and envy.

Several people stopped the companions to admire the flame haired little Kenji, each one commenting on the remarkable resemblance between father and son, gushing about his unmatched cuteness. Kaoru accepted the compliments graciously, smiling with pride at her son, while Kenji just endured the attention. After some time, he asked to be passed to his father, knowing people were less likely to poke at him so if he was held tightly in the man's arms. His father, though painfully polite and accepting of the flattery his son attracted, held a dangerous aire about him. His protectiveness, though held in check, was clearly visible behind the gentle façade of the violet eyes.

Kenshin laughed easily among his friends, but kept his senses attuned to the other people around him. It was mostly an instinctual reaction, the streets he now walked were the ones where he spilled so much blood, there were bound to be people who recognized him for what he once was. It was always a nagging thought in his mind, reminding him of all the time's enemies targeted his most beloved friends in an attempt to hurt him somehow. Back in Tokyo, he rarely thought of it, but here, in these streets, it rose its ugly head once again.

Downtown Kyoto was a sea of people, making it difficult to move forward. Kenji clutched his father's dark blue gi, his eyes wide with fascination. His small world never extended beyond the market of Tokyo, his knowledge of other people extremely limited. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine so many people in the world. The idea was intriguing, but frightening for a boy so small.

The streets were lined with booths full of trinkets, toys, clothing, nearly anything imaginable to the human mind. Beneath vibrantly colored banners and awnings, merchants called out their wares with melodious voices while prospective buyers bartered and prowled. The air literally hummed with excitement.

Kenshin and Yahiko paused to watch a juggler performing on a busy corner. He tossed brightly colored bottles of green, blue, and red into the air, catching them with ease before switching to a much more impressive task of daggers. The crowd ooo'd and ahhh'd as he expertly dodged the sharp blades, adding to the airborne weapons until he had four going all at once. Yahiko laughed and made a comment about the blades being fake, and Kenshin covered Kenji's eyes, praying the boy wouldn't get any idea's of his own when the returned home.

Karou grabbed Yahiko by the collar of gi, pulling him away from the entertainment, barely able to contain the excitement she felt as she babbled on at him, dragging him across the way. Kenshin followed, grinning as the boy struggled against his instructor's grasp, swearing at her interruption. Yahiko's protests stopped as Karou shoved him forward into another gathered cluster of people, draping an arm across her student's shoulder. "Look at this," she whispered into his ear, pointing at the roped off area where two kendo students sparred with each other.

Their movements were graceful and elegant, almost as if they were dancing to a tune only they heard. Each motion of the hand, step of the foot, or swing of the sword was executed with amazing fluidity. As the swords clattered together, the crowd cheered, relishing the entertainment, even placing bets on who would win the match. 

"That's a good way to attract students," Yahiko whispered to Kaoru, who nodded quietly her eyes fixated upon the match, searching for flaws and weaknesses, while admiring the refinement of the students skills.

"That one in blue holds his sword too low," a voice rumbled in her ear playfully, "And the other one reacts with out thinking, he will lose the match." Kaoru just smiled, listening to the teasing purr in her husband's voice, but knowing he could see things that she would never be able to when it came to a sword battle. Sure enough, the young student in blue managed to catch his opponent off guard as a particularly reckless move was executed. The wooden sword came down hard across the back of the other, knocking him to the ground.

Kenji could struggled see what was going on before them, even in his father's grasp he could barely see through the crowd. The distinct sounds of sparring were not lost on his young ears and he strained to get a better look. He pulled on the sakabatou that hung at his father's side, smiling up at the man who held him in his arms. Kenshin laughed and shifted the boy to his shoulders, holding on tightly to stick like legs. "What do you see Kenji," he laughed, knowing the boy understood what was going on through the impermeable crowd.

"Hit'n Mitin-ugi Ryuu," Kenji cried, clapping his hands together and tugging at his father's hair.

Yahiko grinned and tugged at a small sandal. "Close enough kiddo," he laughed, "You'll be learning Kamiya Kasshin though!"

Kenshin smiled and nodded, knowing the boy's words rang true. He had no intention of passing on his sword style, especially to his son. He had no doubts that his Kenji would be capable of mastery of such a difficult sword technique, the boy had amazing potential when it came to cunning, speed, and patience. He was lacking in the same area his father did though, probably even more so. Kenji was incredibly small for his age, almost frail looking, and would probably never grow beyond the height of his father. Hiten Mitsurugi had already taken a toll on his own small frame, his aching bones and joints reminded him everyday. Kenji's fate would be the same if he took up the style, so it was best to allow the Hiten Mitsurugi to go untaught. 

They continued their journey through the streets, only stopping when Kenji shouted in surprise, yanking his father's hair so hard the man yelped in pain. "Look it! Look it!" he shouted, his small feet pounding against his fathers chest. Everyone turned to where the boy pointed, gasping at the sight of a strange, two-humped creature chewing contently on a leaf of hay. They all approached with caution, curious of the creature's nature. Kenji giggled again, pointing at the creatures floppy humps that sat lopsided on its back.

"This looks like some sort of animal show," Kenshin said, stepping back to read the sign that adorned the entrance. "Shall we go take a look?  


Inside, strange striped horses stood looking rather bored in a small pen, their rounded ears cocked back in mild irritance, while more of the strange, two humped animals chewed on nothing unparticular. The group lingered only momentarily, discovering a much more intriguing group of beasts at the far end of the large, stuffy tent. Inside a massive cage of steel and wire, two of the largest cats any of the Kenshin gumi had ever seen lay lazily on the dusty ground, tails flicking ever so slightly. The both animals were the size of a pony, a ruddy red in color, with thick tangled manes of hair around their heads.

Kenji fisted his hands into his father's hair as he stared in awe at the monstrous beasts, comparing them to the smaller counter part that had taken up residence at the dojo many years ago. The grey cat was called Sagara and well known for it's free loading ways, often stealing food from Kenshin's kitchen and causing him fits in the process. That feline was nothing but a flea on a dog's back compared to these enormous animals. "Biiiigggg kitty," Kenji whispered.

Kenshin laughed and pulled at his son's leg, "That they are, Kenji chan! I think they are called lions."

Yahiko giggled and pointed to the lion's shaggy mane, "You two could be related," he teased.

Kenji frowned at the dark haired boy, kicking a small leg out at him, not really understanding the jest, but noticing the joking tone in his voice.

*************

The afternoon wore on, all side shows and attractions were seen, booths double checked, and bellies full of festival food. The hearty lunch slowed them down, but the men trudged on behind the women folk, who decided that now was the perfect time to shop. They had checked and rechecked all the booths that interested them, finding the best deals, and were now prepared to get down to business and barter for some goods. Misao and Kaoru chattered excitedly between each other, trying to decide where to start, hovering from shop to shop.

Yahiko sighed in frustration, not afraid to voice his weariness and boredom, while Kenshin and Aoshi waited patiently, as honorable escorts should. Though their intentions were gentlemanly, weariness was beginning to show on their languid faces.

Long removed from his father's shoulders, little Kenji clasped tightly to his father's hakama with a sweaty hand. Lackluster, pale eyes, lined with dark circles stared hard at the ground with each step he took. He whimpered unhappily from time to time, but it was so soft that only he could hear his own tired protests. The late afternoon had taken a toll on all of them but Kaoru and Misao, who surprisingly seemed to have the strength of a hundred men now.

Kenji struggled to maintain his pace with the group, almost allowing his father to drag him along behind him. He could sense his father was tired and hurting somewhat, his movements were slower now, allowing Kenji to keep up with him a little easier. Something inside the boy would not allow him to whine outwardly and demand to be carried.

He glanced at his new kimono and felt a slight surge of satisfaction. It was now utterly dirty, marred with dust and grime from the day's travels. His mother scolded him during lunch for getting it so filthy, which just solidified his contempt for new clothing, but he now had nothing to fear from this green kimono. Its days of confinement upon him were finished. Not even his father's superb washing skills could remove the grit from the cloth. His thoughts drifted to his home, his real home, which he somehow knew was far away. He wished he could be there now, curled up next to the laundry basket, quietly napping while his father attended the chore.

Kenji tripped suddenly, falling into the dusty street, his sweaty grip giving up the tight hold on his father's leg. He lay there for several moments, too tired to pick himself up, almost allowing himself to cry out for someone to lift him up and carry him home. People walked all around him, their voices humming in his head like the buzzing of angry hornets. A familiar voice sounded above the crowd, urging him to his feet. He looked up into the strained and weary face of his father. 

"Come on Kenji," the man said, forcing a small smile, "If you don't keep up, you'll get lost."

Kenji dropped his head back into the dirt, debating on whether or not to throw an absolute fit right there in the middle of the street. It was quite possible one of his ferocious out bursts would send himself and his father packing back to the restaurant where they stayed. He was tired, bored, highly irritated, all of which made him perfectly capable of a wondrous tempter tantrum, but the effort would require energy that he did not have anymore. He pushed himself off the road, not bothering to hide the annoyance that settled onto his features.

Kenshin said an inward prayer and turned to follow the rest of their companions, keeping his steps small so Kenji could keep up with him. Though his son was blessed with the patience of a Buddhist priest most of the time, if pushed beyond his limits, the boy was capable of unleashing a scene that would mirror the ferocity of Hell itself. Though it was clear Kenji was teetering on the line, the boy seemed to be balancing himself well for the moment. Guilt ate away at Kenshin as he continued to walk towards the booth where Misao and Kaoru stood talking to a merchant about a bolt of cloth. He wanted to scoop the boy up, take him back to their room and curl up on their futon for a lengthy nap, but he refused to leave his wife alone in this city, even with the protection of Aoshi. If anything was to happen while he was away, he'd never forgive himself. His body was protesting greatly against the day's travels, and that kept him from carrying Kenji any longer. Kenshin hoped if the boy could walk on his own for a bit longer, so his sore arms could regain some strength and he could relieve his son's weary legs once again.

Kenji drug his feet, watching the ground once again, his thoughts drifting up and away into the clouds. He wanted to go home to his home. He wanted to play with his baka uncle Sano, pull his fathers laundry from the line, harass Yahiko, and listen to auntie Megumi's stories. He missed his own room, his toys, all of the familiar sights and sounds associated with the place. He vaguely watched the swishing movement of his father's hakama a few feet in front of him, losing himself into comforting thoughts of home.

Kenshin finally made it to the booth where Misao and his wife stood arguing with the merchant. His sore feet brought him up next to Aoshi, who already held several packages in his arms. He cast the taller man a sympathetic look, noting the weariness deep within the blue eyes and furrowed brow. Yahiko was no better off, slumped against a wall, holding onto a couple nicely wrapped packages himself, his dark eyes mirroring that of a coming storm. One hand rested against his temple, warding away a fatigue-ridden headache. 

There was no need for the boy to be here, Kenshin decided, moving slowly closer to where he sat. It made more sense to send him home with Kenji, and allow himself and Aoshi to escort the ladies during their shopping. "Yahiko," Kenshin started, "Why don't you take Kenji…" 

Something brought him up short, a frown creasing his brow as his words dropped off unexpectedly. A strange empty feeling washed over him, like a part of him had suddenly disappeared. Slowly he turned around, looking into an ocean of people, moving like waves through the street. He trained his gaze slowly to the leg of his hakama, praying he'd see the little boy still clinging there, but the only sign of him was the dirty smudge marks of his filthy hands against white fabric.

Fear was not a new taste to Kenshin, he'd had many a drink from it over his lifetime, yet the foul bitterness that dried his mouth now had no comparison. A low, snaking chill coursed up his body, freezing his blood, and stopping his heart. Stealing itself upon his body like a stalking cat, the cold worked its way inside out, a clammy perspiration breaking out all over his body, slowly paralyzing his breathing as well as his thoughts. It was panic in it's purest form, forcing the body to shut down, immobilizing any ability to think rationally, rendering its victim utterly helpless. The only movement he was capable of was the frantic darting of his eyes, trying to penetrate the sea of people before him, seeking any visual contact as well as emotional attachment, but finding neither.

It suddenly claimed him, swallowing him up whole and the realization hit him, and from his lips he uttered a crowd-halting cry.

"KENJI!"

*********

Aoshi spun around, dropping the packages he held and reaching for the twin kodachi's that were not there. Never in his life had he heard such a sound come from the lips of a man. No battle cry or death rattle could ever parallel its intensity. It was a horrible noise, almost unhuman, and so full of terror that the hairs on his neck stood on end. He stared at the red haired samurai, barely able to believe the sound had come from him and trying to reason out what happened to force such a reaction from a normally calm and self controlled man.

He could feel the surge in Kenshin's ki, fierce and barely contained. It battered against his own soul, forcing him to step back slightly. _"What's he doing?"_ Aoshi thought to himself, trying to calm his shaken state, "_He's looking for something."_ The dark haired man collected his rattled nerves, and the puzzle fell into place. Aoshi found himself swallowing against a hard lump in his throat, his eyes scanning the crowd as well, _"Himura chan is gone."_ He looked beyond the people who gathered in utter silence to watch the scene unfold, shoving a few of them aside as he dashed into the street to search himself.

Yahiko had leapt into a defensive stance as well, placing himself between the road and the women, his sword held in front of him, daring anyone to approach those he protected. Confusion marred his expression as dark eyes held the red haired samurai in his sights. "Kenshin," he yelled, "What's going on." He too could sense the ki, and it unnerved him.

"Yes, Kenshin, what happened?"

It was the voice of Kaoru that brought the man crashing back into earth, his entire world shattering around him at once. He could not turn to face her as his mind reeled_, "What do I tell her? What do I do?"_ They were stupid questions, but his mind could not function properly. He wanted to cry, vomit, draw his sword and cut through the sea of people that stood between himself and his son, but all he could do was stand there, frozen, thinking stupid thoughts. His son was not there, nowhere near him. If the boy were close by, he would have felt him and Kenji would answer his father's cry. He could feel the howl of his other half, echoing deep inside his mind, demanding to be set free as the pain claimed him as well. Kenshin grit his teeth, tasting blood in his own mouth, trying to force the amber fire down into the depths of his soul. 

"Kenshin," Kaoru asked, her voice urgent and shaken.

"I…I…I lost him," Kenshin stated, his voice wavering.

Kaoru stopped a few feet behind her husband, "You lost who?" She knew the answer, but did not want to believe it quite yet. It was obvious her son was no where to be seen, but she had to ask, hoping to hear words other than the ones she knew he'd give her. "Where is Kenji?"

"I don't know."

Kaoru grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around with amazing strength, "What do you mean you don't know? You always know where he is!" She stared into his amber tinged eyes, watching the war going on inside him, but not caring who actually won this time.

"I can't feel him here," he responded, his voice painfully quiet, barely a whisper.

"He was just here! With you! How far can a child that young go in a matter of a few minutes?" she shouted freely now, tears starting to run down her face, not realizing the how she made a decision for him with those few words. 

Kenshin was quite for a long while, his eyes down cast. "A long way," he stated, his voice cold and deadly angry, "If he has help." He looked up at his wife, his face constricting at the pain in her eyes. He hated to say those words to her, but she had to know. No, she wanted him to say it, to hear the truth. Lies would do no good here.

Kaoru gazed back into the amber gaze, "I don't care what you have to do. Get him back to us!"

Misao made a move towards her friend as Kenshin reached for Kaoru, but Yahiko stopped her with his sword, shaking his head slightly.

Kenshin crushed his woman against him, holding her so tight she felt the breath start to escape her. She could feel him press his face into her hair, and the slight tremble of his body. He fought desperately to hold back the sobs that threatened him, even in this manifestation of himself. Kaoru managed to pull herself away from him, looking up into the golden eyes, which brimmed with tears of sorrow, fear, and guilt. "Bring Kenji home to us. Bring back your son," she pleaded.

Kenshin nodded, pressing his lips to her forehead, several tears slipping down his cheeks. "I promise Kaoru. I'll find him."

Aoshi pushed his way back through the crowd, shaking his head slightly. He had found nothing, no one had seen anything out of the ordinary and Kenji was still missing. He observed Kenshin quietly, motioning for Misao to come forward, "Take Karou san home with you, inform Okina what has happened, then bring me my clothes and kodachi's." The girl nodded, fighting against her own tears, "The Battousai and I will begin our search here, so hurry up." He brushed away a lone tear that ran down her cheek, but offered nothing more to her. He would not fill her with false hope that the child would be found. None of them were fools. The Battousai had many enemies.

A kindly man offered use of his carriage, Kenshin reluctantly allowed his wife to enter the cab, not liking the idea of her and Misao riding away with a stranger. Once Aoshi assured Kenshin that it would be fine, he sent Yahiko back with them to put the man at ease.

Kenshin turned to Aoshi once the women and Yahiko were on their way and fixed him with a shadowy, golden gaze. Not even the former okashira could hide the doubt and concern in his eyes, and Kenshin buckled a bit at the truth he saw behind them. The rurouni retreated to the depths, unable to bear the pain of what had occurred. His passionate counterpart emerged, holding no malice or contempt for his simpler, gentle half, barely enduring the pain of the loss himself. After several moments of silence, Kenshin spoke in a soft, yet deadly voice, "I'll tell you now," he started, his intense eyes boring into Aoshi's, forcing the man to look away, "If my son has been harmed by anyone, I will kill them." 

Aoshi answered with his own cold silence. The Battousai did not need to tell him such things, he understood the minute he witnessed the rurouni's submission. Himura Kenshin would go to any lengths to retrieve his son, and if that meant drawing a sword again, so be it. It was that resolution that allowed the passionate, fiercely protective battousai to emerge in full, and left the rurouni lingering only slightly in the depths of his mind for the time being.

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Uh oh, where did Kenji go? Kenshin's freaked out again, Kaoru's a basketcase, Aoshi's worried about someone (huh?)…leave it to Kenji to stir up trouble…It's really late here…sigh…the life of an insomniac….


	7. Chapter 7

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Ahh, yes…Kenshin going all battousai about Kenji being gone, he did over react a bit, not knowing the full circumstances, but us parents tend to do that (and Kenshin strikes me as the type to be a bit more paranoid than most). As for personal experience, maybe a little…I've never lost my son anywhere for more than a few minutes (a lifetime goes by though), but I'll tell you what, nothing is more frightening than turning around and seeing them gone from your sight. It's really hard to even put into words actually, but instant panic comes into mind…automatically, you think the worst thing possible and freak out…(only to have your kid staring at you like your insane when you find him a few isles over)…I can't express what I would do to someone if they tried to harm my child…I don't think there's a rating possible for that kind of expression here…even thinking about it gets me angry (I think Kenshin said it well in the fic)…. My son is seven years old now and the most important thing that will **ever** be in my life…Anyway….Writing Kenji is the most difficult, it's been a long time since I was his age (22 years actually), and I want him to be a bit wiser than your average three year old….Kids are smarter than we think, they should NEVER be underestimated, believe me, I speak from experience….LOL  


Standard disclaimers apply

Kenji willed his weary feet to move, concentrating on each step with all his might. He glanced up occasionally to make sure he was still able to see the swaying white fabric of the familiar hakama. He need not cling the to the silky fabric to follow, an unconscious tie binding him to the flowing cloth that moved through the crowd several feet in front of him. 

His tiny feet hurt now, aching and protesting each step he took. They had walked for miles it seemed, not stopping once, which frustrated Kenji greatly. His young energy reserves were almost completely tapped, his patience lingering by a hair's breath. Glancing up again to catch sight of the hakama, he felt himself getting angry at the relentless pace the adults set, his mother and the rest nowhere to been seen, obviously unaware of him and his fathers faltering steps. It took a great deal of focus to maintain his quiet, well natured demeanor now and he grit his teeth against the tantrum that threatened to roar from with in.

Suddenly, Kenji was knocked off his feet, falling smartly on his rump into the dirt. He blinked several times and rubbed his now sore nose, aware he had run into something quite solid. His eyes tracked up the white hakama that he assaulted moments before, reaching up with a small hand to pull himself to his feet.

He yanked that same hand back, as if bitten, when he quickly realized the hakama's owner did not have the face of his father. 

A young man, with dark eyes and deep brown hair stared down at him, startled at the sudden impact that nearly knocked him down. He was young, in his late teens or early twenties and dressed in a deep blue gi and white hakama that almost matched Kenji's father's perfectly. He cast the boy a friendly smile, and helped him to his feet. "I'm sorry little one," he said, dusting off Kenji's already dirty kimono, "I didn't see you there!"

Kenji did not return the smile, instead, he stared blankly at the man, trying to figure out what stranger did with his father. 

The dark haired youth just grinned and ruffled Kenji's unruly hair, "Where're your parents," the young man asked him, stooping low to peer at Kenji. He looked him up and down, seeing the child was an absolute mess. His dark green kimono had obviously seen better days. The once silky, rich cloth was smeared with dust and grime, while the hem was caked with mud. The man gave the boy a sad smile as he took a small wrist into his hand, shaking his head at the frail, twig like arms. _"He must have wandered up here from the orphanage,"_ the man thought to himself, _"What a pity, such a pretty child too." _

Kenji regarded the man carefully, arching a small brow when he felt his arm being squeezed slightly in the large hands, briefly wondering if the man was sizing him up to eat him.

The man sighed, dropping Kenji's slender arm. He couldn't leave the child out here in the street like this. The boy was far too young to be unsupervised and it was amazing he had not yet been trampled flat by the surging crowd. It really didn't surprise him though, orphanages rarely kept decent tabs on their children. This boy was probably left under the care of some older boys, who found him too much of a burden during such a festive event, and left him alone to fend for himself. 

The least he could do for such an unfortunate child was take him back to safety. "Do you want to go home," he asked the red haired boy, flashing a friendly, but sympathetic smile.

All fears of being eaten disappeared when the word "home" was uttered. Kenji wanted nothing more than to go home, to his home in Tokyo. If he wasn't so tired, he would have jumped up and down for joy and thrown his arms around the man's neck, but instead settled for a vigorous nod of the head.

The young man smiled, and scooped the boy up, carrying him back to his wagon that waited in a nearby side street. With a slap of the reins the two of them were off, making their way to the orphanage that lay on the outskirts of Kyoto, far away from the noisy festival

*********

Misao returned the Aoiya after delivering Aoshi's kodachi's and clothing. It was painfully quiet inside the restaurant as she quietly stole her way down the hall to Kaoru and Kenshin's room, slipping silently inside to room as not to disturb the woman inside. Her body was too weathered and in shock to deal with the events that had occurred and Okina had given the distraught mother a sedative, sending her into a deep sleep for the time being.

Misao slid the door shut with a soft click and turned around to see the huddled form of Kaoru sitting upon her futon. Kenji's discarded yukata twisted into her fingers as the hand stoked the soft fabric. Her face was pale from crying, and her eyes were dark with sleep and drowsiness of medication. If she knew the girl was there, she did not acknowledge it, her painful stare fixed only upon the clothing in her hand.

Misao swallowed hard, her heart knotting inside her chest. She realized that the woman now wore one of her husband's gi's as a sleeping robe, tied loosely around her waist._ "She's in so much pain,"_ Misao thought to herself, moving closer to her friend, _"She's trying to keep them both as close as possible."_ She knelt next to the futon, her sad eyes studying the woman before her, not sure what or if she should say anything at all. There were no words to express the grief and saddness she felt for the couple.

"It smells like him," Karou whispered in a weak voice. She drew the robe to her face, inhaling deeply and rubbing the soft cloth across her lips. Her eyes shut as the tears fell again, her body constricting against the emotions inside her body. 

It was useless for her to go and search for her son. She wanted to run through the streets, crying his name over and over again, but her body would not cooperate. If she tried to stand, she collapsed, the sobs overtaking her small form as the terror she felt consumed her. 

Her son was gone, disappeared from their world with in an instant. She did not know if he was hurt, scared, cold or hungry. He had no one to look after him, no one to dry his tears or hold him close. He was alone in a world he knew nothing about and he could not understand, even with his amazing intelligence, if people tried to harm him. There was no way for a boy so small to defend himself against a past as large and dark as his fathers. 

She held no malice against Kenshin, she couldn't, no matter how hard she wanted to blame someone for this tragedy. While she felt the burnings of grief inside her heart, she knew he felt much more. His cry still echoed in her ears, like someone plunged a hand into his chest and ripped out his heart. His life was taken away from him, everything he lived for was now gone, and with her own eyes, she witnessed his solution. He would give up everything he strived to become to get it back.

She covered her eyes with her hands, crying so hard her head began to reel. "Kenshin," she sobbed, "Kenji…"

Misao felt her own tears welling in her eyes. "Kaoru chan, everything will be okay," she choked, unable to watch her friend's pain silently any longer.

Kaoru shook her head, "You don't know that Misao."

Misao nodded slightly, "You have to have hope though." She wiped away her own tears and put a hand on her friends trembling shoulder, "Have faith in Himura san and Aoshi sama, they'll bring Kenji chan back to us."

Karou sighed shakily, her nod barely noticeable, her friends words were only slightly comforting.

***************

People stepped out of the swordsman's path as he made his way through the crowd. They followed the amber gaze wearily, his fierceness and anger etched into a dark scowl, warning away anyone who dared approach him. The eyes searched the crowd relentlessly, his desperation not lost on the onlookers concerned faces. He stopped at several booths, exchanging words with the merchants, and bowing stiffly when they shook their heads.

Kenshin narrowed his eyes as he dipped his head in half-hearted thanks to one of the salesmen he questioned. No one had seen a small, red haired boy in a dark green kimono. He had returned to all the places they visited that day, hoping his son would be drawn to one of them, but found nothing. Now he searched the booths again, questioning people randomly, but extracting nothing. A few people remembered him and the boy, but not a soul had seen the child roaming the streets alone. 

His findings only made his fear worse. If the boy merely wandered off, lost in the crowd, someone would have seen him. People noticed Kenji, he was banking on that as a solution to find his son's whereabouts, but his during his questioning, no one mentioned seeing the flame haired, gem eyed boy anywhere. He was losing hope, slowly realizing that his son was no longer anywhere near the festival, and a boy that small could not travel that quickly alone. 

Kenshin grit his teeth in frustration and cursed the city of Kyoto under his breath. He hated this place, with all it's horrid memories and shadows. Nothing good ever came from Kyoto, it was a seeping wound on the face of society and he hated himself for bringing his family here. He should have known better, his peaceful life lulled him into a false sense of security, allowing himself to think things had actually changed. He fed them to the wolves, tossing them into danger like carcasses, and his guilt ran deeper than it ever had before.

Yahiko came barreling around a corner, running into Kenshin's stiff form, falling onto his back into the dust. His chest heaved from his exertions and he lay there on the ground trying to catch his breath. Kenshin stooped over the boy, making sure he was unhurt from his collision.

Yahiko almost flinched as the hands lifted him into a sitting position and gently dusted him off. The touch was smooth and light, the same as the Kenshin he had lived with for the past several years and Yahiko scolded himself for thinking it would be any different. Kenshin, no matter what his mood or temperament, would always care for him, it was doing him a dishonor to think other wise. "Thanks Kenshin," Yahiko replied, hoping the man didn't see his initial reaction. 

Kenshin only nodded, satisfied that at least this part of his family was unhurt for the time being. He stared down at the boy, waiting for him to continue.

"I…I haven't found anything yet," Yahiko said, unable to meet the gaze of his mentor. The intensity frightened him, but it was the pain he could see deep in the man's eyes that drove him to look at the street. Kenshin was hurting, falling apart before his eyes and there was nothing he could do or say to stop it. 

Yahiko feared for Kenji as well, the boy was a younger brother to him in all but blood. Though the child gave him absolute fits, he loved the boy deeply and his heart ached for his safe return.

A strong hand reached out and clasped his shoulder in gratitude. "Thank you Yahiko. We'll keep looking."

Kenshin watched the boy dart away, grateful he was able to hide the sinking feeling deep inside his gut. _"Where are you Kenji chan?"_ This was all his fault, he should have not allowed his own fatigue and weariness to overcome him and dull his senses. A good father would never take his eyes off his child in a place such as this, but he allowed Kenji to stray too far. He lost him. His fault. The most important thing in his life gone due to his carelessness. 

Kenshin shut his eyes against the surge of grief and guilt, both overwhelmingly powerful when combined as one. _"I'm so sorry Kenji chan. Please be okay. I'm coming for you." _He had no clues, no trails to follow, no suspects, but he could not allow those words be empty. With his resolve sturdier once again, Kenshin continued down the road, moving away from the festival, searching for a single grain of sand in a massive beach.

********

Kenji stared blankly as he was lifted from the wagon and set down on the rugged steps of the orphanage. He watched as his dark haired rescuer waved to him and cheerily shouted a goodbye, wishing him the best of luck in his life. Kenji's mouth twitched slightly as the wagon disappeared from sight and he began to frown. Yes, they'd traveled a long way by his standards, but he wasn't so ignorant to realize that the dilapidated building behind him was not his home. The dojo was indeed need of work, but it never looked or smelled as bad as this.

Kenji chewed on his cheek, scowling at his current situation. Nothing in the area looked familiar, most of the buildings were fairly run down and ill kept and the street was full of deep holes and ruts, obviously neglected by the city for some reason or another. The place was dreary and dark, the air almost stale. It reminded him of the part of town where his Uncle Sano lived, but something didn't feel quite right about it.

Kenji shrugged and hobbled off the porch, his feet not quite as sore, having rested from his long ride in the wagon. He looked to his left and right, trying to decided which way would take him to his chicken headed uncles home, and decided on the latter for some unknown reason. Uncle Sano never had any food or toys to play with, but he did have a futon and nice warm home that Kenji could rest in until his father came to get him.

Daylight was starting to fade away, and Kenji's discouragement was growing by the minute. All the houses looked the same and the streets ran together, getting him even more lost. He was starting to get hungry too, his belly rumbling and constricting against its emptiness. 

The streets were virtually empty in this part of town, and the people Kenji did see were usually stumbling down the street, large jugs clutched in their hands. He'd seen bottles like that before at his house, and watched his father and Sano drink from them occasionally. Somehow, the sight of something familiar eased his mind, even though it was just a simple, fleeting detail.

Kenji trudged on, listening to the sounds of his growling belly and devising ways to make his father pay dearly for taking so long to find him. A normal child would have settled down and cried, but Kenji always preferred to take matters into his own hands. He was a willful child, with no use for tears most of the time, and his courage surpassed that of those who were twice his age. His stubbornness and independence often proceeded him within their small family circle, along with his quick wits and cunning.

As he rounded another corner, a sharp cry snapped him to attention. He stopped immediately, craning a small head in the direction of the noise, his plotting halted and belly forgotten. Curiosity pulled him closer to the sounds of a scuffle deep inside one of the dark ally ways. He crept quietly forward, peeking carefully around the edge of a building, straining to see inside the shadows.

He could make out two children, several years older than himself. A rather plump boy, with stringy dark hair, and a round head stood laughing over the form of a young girl. The boy's hand was raised far above his greasy crown, and in his grasp, Kenji could make out a wooden doll.

"Give it back, Aki," the girl shouted at her chubby tormentor, her face red from crying.

The boy snorted, and crushed the doll in his hand, a wooden leg falling with a soft thump into the dirt. "Girls are so stupid," he scoffed, throwing the rest of the broken toy behind him. He smiled at the girls outraged cry, thin lips drawn together in wicked pleasure.

Kenji's pale eyes darkened as he scowled at the boy, who was unaware of the audience he now had. Never in his life had he bore witness to such cruelty. Not even Yahiko's teasing mirrored something as horrible as this. Taking things that didn't belong to you was bad, and breaking them was even worse. Concepts like good and evil were beyond his reach still, but the ideals of what was right and wrong were well understood, followed up by an extremely strong sense of justice._"Bad! Bad! Bad!"_ Kenji thought to himself, watching the girl cry as the boy taunted her.

With a cunning eye he surveyed his surroundings, searching for a suitable mode of punishment for the nasty, wicked, toy-stealing criminal. Moving closer to the fray, he planted his small feet apart, and pointed a disapproving finger at the laughing boy, "That's no good," he shouted, "Very mean!" Narrowed eyes glinted a deep purple in the pale light of the ally. "Stop it," he barked in his tiny, whispery voice.

The boy froze, startled at the intrusion, and with worried eyes, searched for the adult that belonged with the small child who scolded him so freely. Seeing no escort, the boy grinned again with malicious intent. The red haired child glaring at him was far from threatening, so small a breeze could very well pick him up and carry him away. Slightly perturbed that his bullying was interrupted, he took a menacing step towards his little assailant. "What are you going to do about," he laughed, chubby cheeks rippling. 

The girl ceased her crying, gathering up what was left of her doll and put herself between little Kenji and the larger boy. "Leave him alone Aki," she shouted at him, pushing Kenji backwards towards the main street, trying to get him to run.

Aki flashed a toothy grin, deciding that it would be much more fun to put the tiny brat on the roof and watch him cry, then stand around and break the toys of girls. "I'm going to teach that little shrimp a lesson," he laughed, small eyes glinting.

A devilish smile slowly crept upon Kenji's face, dark, and wise beyond his years. He watched the boy lumber closer, and took note of the slight pause in his attackers steps, trying to figure out why the smaller boy wasn't running in fear. Kenji saw his chance, taking advantage of his opponent's puzzlement, and moved with surprising speed to the top of a crate. He took hold of a tattered awning and throwing as much force as he could muster, swung outward against the ragged fabric. The worn cloth gave way, as did the brittle, wooden holds, and crashed down on top of them. Kenji was tossed forward with the momentum, landing hard against a stack of empty crates, which in turn teetered, then fell, creating a domino effect. The boxes spilled, crashing against the building and even shattering a window in the process, the noise loud enough to cause people to come out of their homes.

Kenji giggled, his old worries of being lost and hungry gone, quickly replaced by his carefree self. He lay inside one of the fallen crates, only two ankles and muddy tabi visible, his kimono thrown up over his head. He did not need to sit up and survey the damage, he knew already that the destruction he caused just now was by far his most admirable masterpiece. 

The best was yet to come anyway as a woman stormed out of her small shop, screeching in rage when she saw her awning ripped to shreds, as well as the broken window near the far corner of the building. Blazing with anger, the woman looked hard at Kenji, who had sat up when she came out of the store. He stared back at her with wide, astonished eyes, his mouth in a partial gape of shock. She slowly turned to see the girl holding a broken doll, her young face red from crying, and finally settled her dark glare onto the chubby boy struggling to push the pieces of a fallen crate off of him.

"AKI," the woman screamed, storming over to the boy, "You blasted son of a yukuza! What the hell do you think your doing!" She grabbed the boy by the ear and hauled him into a standing position. The chubby miscreant was obviously dazed, and fairly bruised from the calamity, but he wasn't badly injured, save his deplorable pride. He cried out in pain at the woman's fierce hold and pointed an accusing finger at Kenji.

Kenji blinked at the woman.

"You expect me to believe that scrap of a boy did all this? Do you think I'm an idiot? I don't care who your father is, but he'll pay for my window…." Her voice trailed off as she drug the boy further down the street.

A small grin stole over Kenji's lips as he watched them disappear, becoming nothing more than silhouettes in the rapidly approaching darkness. He suppressed a snicker, and began to pull himself free of the crate he sat in, bathing in the satisfaction of his current achievement. 

"Humph," a gruff voice snorted, causing Kenji to jump as he eased himself down the side of the box, "Call it a hunch, but I don't think that kid much to do with making this mess."

__

Ohhhhh, lots of stuff going on in this chapter…Kenji is the creator of chaos….both knowingly and unknowingly…LOL…most kids are, but I want my Kenji to have it down to an art…So he wasn't stolen away, he wandered off and got mistaken for an orphan…what a nice man to give him a ride home…Kenshin and Kaoru are both walking a fine line right now, Yahiko is feeling guilty, Kenji is creating trouble to pass the time (making enemies to boot), who knows what Aoshi is up too (???), and now another stranger enters the picture…a new victim to experience the pandemonium Kenji is capable of creating……Thanks again everyone for the reviews, you are all way too kind!


	8. Chapter 8

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Oh, Kenji chan is such a little hero….he's not such a feeble, defenseless little boy…who could grow up normally with parents and family like the Kenshin gumi? Kids aren't the ignorant innocents we all think them to be (I mean that in a good way too), sometimes I think us grown ups could learn a thing or two from them…As we grow, we become jaded and lose touch of things that are important…we think our life experiences make us smarter and stronger, but sometimes we allow our souls to be weakened by the harshness of life. Kids don't do that, they take things as they come, the simplest things bring them joy. My own son is a fountain of compassion and caring, even more so than myself and I envy him. He reaches out to everyone and touches them in a way that only he can…people love him and are drawn to him…I received a note from his teacher several weeks ago, telling me how he spent his entire day helping a new girl who has downs syndrome get settled into class…the teacher didn't ask him to do it, he took it upon himself to help the little girl…he made friends with the bully that picked on him, extending a hand of friendship to a child who knew nothing but a life of loneliness….He's a unique child and far wiser than I when it comes to dealing with the hearts of other people. Oh, and Bao Blossom, shame on you for thinking I'd harm little Kenji chan! (wink) Have a little faith…hee hee hee!!!! 

Standard disclaimers apply

Chapter 8

"Shit, it's getting dark," Yahiko cursed as he dodged the pedestrians on the street. The daylight was rapidly fading behind the mountains in a brilliant array of red and gold. Hours had gone by since Kenji's disappearance and he had not seen hide nor hair of the boy. Darkness would prove no ally in the search either, and Yahiko grit his teeth against the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.

He envisioned himself sitting on the riverbank with his family and friends this evening, enjoying the fireworks display that would mark the end of the festivities. Kenji chan would be frightened at first, but Yahiko would be there to tease him and make him forget his fears. He could almost picture the boy's look of awe as the splendid colors burst through the night sky, lighting it up in wild magnificence. He could hear the startled giggles and feel the boy crawl into his lap, lacing a small arm around his neck as he always did when mildly frightened.

Kenji would not be with them tonight. There would be no fireworks, no bonding of family and friends in quiet solitude of the riverbank, no unity of love or happiness. Tonight there would be only darkness for them, the shining spark they yearned for gone from them, and no fireworks display, however fantastic, could light the blackness in their hearts.

His hope was rapidly fading, and he began to understand the fear that Kenshin was going through. At first, the boy's disappearance only mildly disturbed him. He knew what kind of trouble Kenji chan was capable of, probably better than anyone else. The idea of the boy wandering off and getting lost was really of no shock, Kenji was capable of things far more devious and designed than that and Yahiko fully intended on scolding him for his lack of originality when they found him. Yet as the day wore on, the young samurai became increasingly aware that his small charge was no where to be found and more than likely, not even in the vicinity of the festival. Kenshin would have sensed him, even if he was hidden away somewhere in one of the tents or buildings. There was no denying the bond the father and child shared, it would not lie to them.

Yahiko glanced at the fading sun, letting the wavering light burn his eyes, feeling the sting as moisture welled in them. He shook his head, trying to free himself of the grief he felt and turned to resume his search, his feet taking him closer and closer to the Aoiya. He hoped once he reached the restaurant that one of the others would have some sort of information or clue of the boy's whereabouts, and he prayed Kenshin would return there as well.

***********

Kenshin roamed the nearly disserted streets of the business district, his eyes alert and watching the faces of those who stared at him as he passed by. He felt no malice in their questioning gazes, only mild fear and confusion at his uninhibited agitation, which was etched clearly upon his face. 

He was aware of the fading light, counting the minutes until it disappeared fully behind the mountains. Night would make the search for his son difficult for the rest of the group, and he hoped they would retreat to the Aoiya to regroup. The streets of Kyoto were not safe at night, and it was best that young Misao and Yahiko stay safe inside until the light of day. As for himself, he did not fear the darkness that quietly stole upon the city, the shadows could very well be his best ally at this point, and he would use them as he did once before, many years ago.

He hesitated as he came to an intersection of the roads, leaning heavily against the corner of a building. He removed his hands from inside his gi, and placed one loosely over the hilt of his sword, feeling the familiar presence approaching from the darkness of the ally. Quietly, he waited, his expression tense.

"I know your there Battousai," a sharp voice echoed, footsteps drawing closer, "Did you honestly think you could hide yourself from me like a common street thug?"

Kenshin could almost see the smirk on the man's thin face and felt himself bristle as he stepped out from his hiding spot. He was in no mood for the arrogance of Saito Hajime today, and quickly regretted seeking the man's assistance. His desperation and lack of clues brought him to the police station, a last resort, and a source of hope. He was willing to go to any lengths to find his son, he reminded himself, even if it meant recruiting the help of this insufferable man.

"Saito san," Kenshin replied, giving the police officer a stiff bow.

Saito cocked his head to one side and took a long draw off his cigarette, contemplating the state of the small man before him. "It's been awhile Battousai," he replied, not returning the bow, "What brings you to Kyoto? Or should I ask, what brings you to my door is such a state?" He could feel the intensity of Kenshin's spirit, forceful and troubled, yet held back by thin restraints.

Kenshin swallowed against the bitter taste that formed in his mouth. He disliked this man, but could not deny that he was a useful companion in times of trouble. Saito had resources and connections that Kenshin did not, his information network would prove detrimental in this particular dilemma. "I come to ask you a favor," he asked, bowing once again.

The slender man arched a brow and flicked the ash off his cigarette, "The hitokiri Battousai asks a favor from the wolf? My how the times have changed indeed." He stood quietly, waiting for Kenshin's reaction to his less than friendly retort.

Kenshin bit his tongue against the anger that flared inside him, not allowing himself to be baited into one of Saito's petty arguments. "Fine, if not a favor, then I come to you asking help from an officer of the law," he stated, amber eyes meeting amber.

"Really?" It was not much of a question, more of a snide reply. "Well, you'll have to take it up with the officers on duty, I'm finished for the day." Saito smirked at Kenshin, delighted at his deliberate dodge of the mans wits. He would not be trapped so easily by the Battousai's cunning.

Kenshin sighed heavily, irritated. He'd unwittingly fell into one of Saito's meaningless games, a match of smarts the man undeniably enjoyed. He had no time for such things, but did not want the common police folk to become involved in something that could prove to be dangerous. Innocent people had no place in dealing with his dark past, he would not allow them to lose their lives in vain. Saito, on the other hand, was just as stained and tainted as he was, so asking his help would be most justifiable.

"What's the matter Battousai? Your past come back to haunt you again?"

Kenshin snarled at the former Shinsengumi captain, his hand grasping the hilt of his sword tightly. His eyes blazed at the lanky man, teeth bared in animal like fashion, his anger unrestrained.

Saito frowned and flicked his cigarette into the dust. He always enjoyed taunting his former enemy, watching him squirm and falter for words, hiding within the dimwitted rurouni persona. That was apparently not working here today, he only managed to unleash a monster of anger and agitation, dangerous and wild. Not even during their meetings of the revolution had he seen the Battousai so distraught and enraged, and the thought unnerved him. He would have to tread lightly. "It would seem you have some things on your mind, Battousai," he motioned with a hand for the man to follow him, keeping his gesture casual and slow.

Kenshin calmed himself, breathing deeply and cooling the flare of his soul. Fighting with Saito was pointless, and allowing anger to over take him anymore than it already had would do nothing to bring his son back to him. He had to maintain what little sanity he had left, for Kenji's sake.

"Tell me, what trouble have you stirred up this time," the police officer asked, smiling with thin lips, as the two of them walked down the street.

"My son is missing," Kenshin stated, his voice as cool as steel, "I'm afraid he's been taken from me."

For a brief moment Saito felt sympathy for the man who walked quietly beside him. He could not imagine having one of his children disappear, it was a parents greatest fear. He was surprised that the Battousai let his son get far enough away from him to actually wander off or be taken, the man was a notorious worrier and fiercely over protective. That would explain the obvious reemergence of the Battousai persona, he'd expect nothing less from a man who banked his life on his own flesh and blood. He would have to choose his words carefully and refrain from his usual harassment. "Tell me what happened," he stated calmly, hiding his parental sympathy and sedating any sharp retorts that fluttered inside his mind.

********

Kenji felt himself being lifted into the air by the back of his kimono. He made a small sound of protest as one of his tiny sandals fell from his foot and landed into the soft dirt of the ally way. Up he went, higher and higher, dangling like a limp, wet rag in the steely grasp of an unknown assailant.

"What do we have here," a voice not unlike the rumble of a distant thunderstorm, asked, the tone amused and curious. With a flex of the wrist, the light boy felt his collar twist and he spun around to gaze into the face of the person who held him at their mercy. 

"Huh?" The man jerked the child closer to his face, his amusement faltering slightly and giving way to surprise. He moved quickly out of the ally and into the better light of the street.

Now, just inches from the man's face, Kenji found himself staring into eyes so black they seemed to have no pupil. The stern gaze might have been frightening if it wasn't for the shiny pinpoints of light dancing in their depths and the creases around the corners. Still, despite the hidden signs of friendliness, Kenji felt himself holding his breath as he met the obsidian stare, biting his lip nervously.

The man that held him was enormous, standing at least a head taller than his lanky uncle Sano. His shoulders and chest were broad, rippling with muscles so large Kenji had to fight back the urge to reach out and touch the lumps and curves that strained against the man's shirt. Never in his short life had he seen such a man, and the more he thought about it, the more inhuman his captor seemed. For a brief moment he contemplated the idea he'd been captured by a monster, but as he studied the man's face, he breathed a sigh of relief. The face of the man that held him was indeed human, handsome and strong with sharp, defined features. He was intimidating, but not demonic or evil looking.

For a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other.

Hiko Seijuro narrowed his dark eyes at his small captive, a sharp brow arched curiously. Something seemed strangely familiar about the current situation. Who would have thought that in one lifetime, he'd come across another young boy with red hair, pale eyes, and milky white skin. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear he held Shinta, the child he rescued and renamed, in his hands once again, though this child was far smaller and younger. The resemblance was so uncanny it was almost unnerving. 

The boys hair was shaggy and the color of an angry flame. A few strands fell across slender, slightly arched brows, shadowing large, pale eyes. Those same eyes danced in the light of dusk, shining like diamonds, almost devoid of color except for the hint of bluish/violet swimming around a deep black pupil. A tiny, slightly upturned nose and thin set of lips set perfectly centered between plump, chidish cheeks, rosy still from his previous exertions. At first glance, Hiko suspected the child to be barely two years old, but now that he held him closer, he could see he was mistaken. The boy was small for his age, deceivingly small, but his legs and arms were skinny and lithe, like those of a toddler in his last stages of infancy. 

"What's your name boy," Hiko finally asked, though he really didn't need to ask. He knew whose blood flowed in the child's veins, it was only painfully obvious. He half expected the child to tell him "Shinta," and he tried not to gag. It was such a weak name for a boy, especially for the child of a Hiten Mitsurugi master.

Kenji just stared at Hiko, sucking on his bottom lip in deep thought. His parents warned him not to address strangers when they were not around, but he already broke that rule several times today and was still intact. He found this man intriguing, but he still was not certain of his intentions. He eyed Hiko with intense interest, maintaining his contemplating silence.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Hiko gave the boy a quick shake, watching as skinny arms flew out in desperate attempt to maintain balance. The other sandal fell to the ground, and Kenji's red hair stuck out in wild disarray at the unnecessary jostle. The wide, pale eyes became piercing slits and the small jaw set hard against clenched teeth once the harsh treatment ceased and the boy regained his senses.

Hiko almost laughed at the look on the boy's face, remembering how Kenshin would stare daggers at him with the same ferociousness. His apprentice had been stubborn child, but he always bent to his masters will, even if it was reluctantly. There was no doubt in his mind that this child belonged to his dumb student, but he sensed that this boy was far more than just stubborn. The look on the boy's face was indignant, defiant, and issued a silent warning. _"Such spirit,"_ Hiko thought, _"You far surpass your father! He would never openly think vengeance on me."_

Hiko wondered where his baka deshi was right now. Something wasn't right, and Hiko didn't like the foul stench of it. He knew his student far to well, he defended that ridiculous little family of his with the fervor of a lion protecting it's den, there was no way in all of hell he'd leave his own flesh and blood out on the streets of Kyoto to rot. No, Kenshin wouldn't let a child of his and that Kamiya girl alone for a moment, Hiko was sure of that. 

He peered closely at Kenji, eyeing him up and down, taking note of the now torn and filthy kimono, grimy cheeks, and matted hair. Maybe this wasn't a child of Kenshin and his sword-welding woman. He could be the whelp of some teahouse whore and his baka deshi, a by-product of one of those yearly trips to Kyoto that his student supposably made. Hiko shook his head slightly, biting back the twinge of anger he felt towards his apprentice. If that were the case, he would personally go to Tokyo and bash his idiot student all the way to China. _"Ridiculous,"_ he thought, he anger slightly receding. Kenshin had eyes only for that Kamiya girl, and his student's loyalties ran deeper than most men's did. 

Hiko frowned a little more deeply, _"Is this boy an orphan?"_ He was mildly surprised at the worry he suddenly felt for his student and his family. Death was a part of life, and he was surprised Kenshin had made it as far as he had already. It shouldn't bother him to think of his student being dead, things happened, but he started to feel a twinge of regret and concern as he gazed at the child in his hand. Surely he would have heard something if a disaster had befallen the group in Tokyo. Then again, he kept more to himself lately, not having much contact with the outside world, so news wouldn't reach him easily.

Three years had passed since Hiko had seen his student. Kenshin visited him early spring, right after the snows had melted and allowed safe passage up the mountain. He spoke nothing of a child being conceived or born, let alone being married to the Kamiya girl, though Hiko hardly doubted that his apprentice kept himself unwed from that girl, especially after that horrific incident with his former wife's younger brother. 

Hiko shrugged, thinking that maybe being a hermit did have its disadvantages. _"He could at least send a letter every now and then,"_ he thought to himself bitterly, _"Selfish little twit."_

He looked back at Kenji, who still stared at him with the venom of a scorpion, and pondered on what to do next. He had no desire to take on another apprentice, especially one so young. Kenshin was eight years old and more than a handful for him back then. Hiko had no experience with children this young, but knew they required more care and attention than older ones did. Still, he couldn't leave the boy alone in the streets of Kyoto, he would certainly meet an unpleasant end if left to fend for his own. 

He thought briefly of the orphanage that was not far from his current position. He would not hesitate to drop any other street urchin upon their doorstep, but placing the son of his student there did not sit well with him. There was no honor in pawning the brat off, and the orphanage was almost as bad as the street. It offered bed, food, and a roof, but no more. If Kenshin and his woman were not around, Hiko was the closest person to a relative the boy had left, it was his duty to take him in until he could find a better place for the boy to live. The man sighed and cursed his steely sense of honor. Being so noble was such a burden sometimes.

"Can you talk baka kodomo," Hiko barked, raising Kenji a little higher into the air. If the boy could speak, he could certainly answer some of the questions plaguing the large man's mind. "Or are you deaf and dumb?"

Kenji hissed at his captor, baring his teeth at the man's words, wishing nothing more than to kick him in the nose or sink his teeth into his hand. He was held in an unfavorable position, unable to defend himself, as if the giant knew that getting to close would ensue something unpleasant. 

Hiko was amazed that the boy showed absolutely no fear of him what so ever. He grinned at the fighting spirit he felt pouring from within the boy, and knew that if he made one wrong move, the child would have a chunk of him between his teeth before he could bat an eye. It was obvious the boy could hear and did not take kindly to harsh words, more than likely he could speak as well, but instead chose not too, sizing up his opponent none the less. Hiko's smiled broadened, impressed with the boy's wits and courage. _"The lion bore a fierce cub,"_ he thought to himself, almost praising his student for a job well done.

"Listen up chicchai raion," Hiko pulled Kenji a bit closer, watching as the child fidgeted slightly, debating on whether or not to make a move, "My name is Hiko Seijuro, 13th master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, and teacher to Himura Kenshin. Today is your lucky day, I'm going to take you home with me and in return you'll tell me where your father is. Then I'll decide what to do with you."

Hiko lost Kenji the minute he mentioned Hiten Mitsurugi. The boys frown faded into a look of surprise, then excitement. He pointed at the katana bound to the mans hip and giggled a cherubic giggle, "Hit'n Miten-ugi Ryuu!" He looked at the tall man and smiled, squishing his eyes together in glee.

Hiko prided himself on being man not often caught off guard, but he almost dropped his little prisoner in surprise when the boy shouted back the name of his sword style in his face. Even though the boy knew what the words meant, by motioning to his sword, it still did not give Hiko enough information to decide if Kenshin still lived. This was definitely his son though, raised by him up until recently, that he knew now for sure. "Where's your father," he asked the now smiling boy.

Kenji attempted a shrug, but his position made it difficult and his face became somber with the mention of his parent.

"Is he alive?"

Another shrug.

"Is he in Kyoto?"

Shrug.

This was getting him nowhere. The boy became silent again, watching Hiko intently, his anger at the man forgotten.

Kenji had no concept of life or death and such questions about his fathers well being would not bring forth any information. He also had no idea where his parents were, that was the honest truth. All he knew was he could not see them, nor could he feel his father anywhere near him, therefore, they could be anywhere.

Hiko sighed. He was getting tired and it would be dark when he reached his cabin now. The trek home would allow him time to think and once back in the comfort of his cabin, he could question the boy further. He set Kenji on the ground, stooping down to meet his gaze, "Do you have a name child?"

Kenji stared at Hiko for a moment and when he decided it would be okay to divulge such information he replied, "Ken-ji."

Hiko rolled his eyes slightly. "Figures," he muttered, standing up and shifting his sake jug against his hip, "Come on Kenji chan. I hope you can keep up, it's a long walk to my home." 

Hiko moved easily down the street, pausing when he reached the end of the road that would take him out of town. "What are you doing," he yelled, seeing that the boy had not followed him one step of the way, "I said hurry up!"

Striding back to where the boy stood, fuming, Hiko barked, "What's the matter?"

Kenji looked at the ground sheepishly, kicking the dirt with bare tabi, "No shoes," he stated. 

Hiko picked up one tiny sandal and tossed it at the boy, "Where's the other one?"

Kenji pointed to the now dark ally way.

"Well go get it."

"Scary there," the boy stated.

__

"Kami sama," Hiko thought, "Go. Get. It."

Kenji arched a brow at Hiko and stood fast, staring at the man. A battle of wills began, both watching each other and neither budging.

"Fine," Hiko finally said, grabbing the boy by a skinny arm, "We'll both go."

Kenji grinned as he was drug behind the massive swordsman, not bothering to fuss at such harsh treatment.

__

Kenji's been picking fights with the local gangster kids, Kenshin and company think he's been abducted and taken far from Kyoto, Hiko thinks Kenshin could be dead…what a stir one little boy has managed to create….But it would seem out boy hero is having a good time, even though he has no clue where he is or where his parents are. Chicchari raion is the term for "little lion." I'm not sure how accurate it is, but oh well, thanks to the person who gave me the information, your help was greatly appriciated (smile)…Kodomo is the word for child…I'm trying to work up a nickname for Kenji that Hiko would use in place of his given name…lol…for some reason, Hiko sama calling Kenji, Kenji chan doesn't seem quite right….I have no idea if they even had orphanages back then, but I'd imagine they had something along those lines, though I may be wrong…but it seemed appropriate to put into this fic…Kenj's a mess and looks like a street rat, so it seemed just fitting for people to assume so….Anyway, I'll see you all in the next chapter, where we'll see what trouble Kenji can cause Master Hiko….hee hee….


	9. Chapter 9

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Hmmm, for some reason my story does not seem to be showing up on ff.net…Very strange indeed…I wonder if it had to do with me reloading chapter 8 after fixing a couple errors….I dunno….it's sort of irritating actually, not knowing what happened!!! Sighs…ah well…it shows up when I do a search under my name, very strange indeed…I printed off my reviews though, hee hee, just in case I lose them if I have to reload the entire story…Jason, you mentioned the little dragon thing before, I know I know, I agree with you, I didn't even think of that when I started writing the story…Zoso no baka!!!! Well, a lion is the next best thing…hee hee! Bao Blossom, you should have posted your story! I love all your work! Your far too hard on yourself, have faith!!!! I have big plans for Hiko and Kenji….(evil laugh)…Hiko fans, beware…LOL…(I am an avid Hiko sama fan myself, I love that guy…I want one of my own…(rubbing hands together).)

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 9

"So, your telling me the boy just up and disappeared. There's no traces of him anywhere and no witnesses?"

Kenshin nodded, walking silently next to the tall man. He'd looked everywhere, double-checked all the previous places they'd been, questioned people on the street. He had found nothing, not even a hint of his son's whereabouts.

Saito took a long drag off his cigarette, watching as the smoke curled and snaked away on the gentle currents of the night air. "You'd think a child of your son's age would make a ruckus if grabbed by a hostile stranger," he replied thoughtfully. 

Kenshin cast Saito a sidelong glance, "You have no idea," he muttered, thrusting out a badly bruised forearm to illustrate his point. There was no way Kenji would allow himself to be held and carried away with out a fight. "Who ever took him would have had to sedate him or drug him someway," he growled, bristling at the thought of his son being attacked in such a way. It would be a simple matter to sedate a child, a cloth of over the mouth. It would not take much to knock the boy out, providing the drug was strong enough.

Saito raised an eyebrow, gazing at the man's injured arm. "Indeed," he said in wonder, "Your whelp did that?"

Kenshin nodded slightly, gazing deep into the shadows of the street, his thoughts wandering. He stiffened slightly, sensing a familiar presence, and turned to face the approaching figure. 

"Did you have any news Aoshi?"

The tall man walked silently past Saito, not bothering to look at or greet the police officer. He nodded quietly and stopped next to Kenshin. "Hai, I found some interesting news on the east side of the city."

Kenshin made a gasp of surprise. East Kyoto was well known for its hard line gangs and thugs. The most destitute and dangerous people resided in that part of the city. Once again anger flared through his body, followed closely by fear for his boy's well being. 

Aoshi continued, "It would seem there was incident at the local liquor store. A squabble between three children apparently, there was significant damage done to one of the buildings, but no one was seriously injured."

"So," Saito snapped, irritated at the other man's calm demeanor, "What does this have to do with the Battousai's boy?"

Aoshi's lips thinned at the slender man's interruption, cold eyes demanding silence, "I'm not finished," he stated, turning back to Kenshin, "Two of the children are affiliated with the local gangs, a son and niece if my information is correct. The other boy was small, and red haired."

"WHAT?" Kenshin's eyes shot open. Knowing his son's location brought him no relief. Kenji was in danger, in the hands of the yukuza, none the less. Anger slowly began work itself into a molten fire of rage. His blood sang for vengeance and his primal instinct to protect drown out his senses. "Where is he now," he hissed.

Both Saito and Aoshi turned their heads, cast weary glances at each other, the terrible rancor with in Kenshin's ki causing their blood to run cold. Not even Saito, in all his confidence and self-assuredness would raise a challenge, or a sword, to the man that stood before him now. Kenshin reeked of dominance and demanded respect.

"I asked you a question," the amber-eyed man whispered, his words dripping with warning, "Who has my son." 

Aoshi maintained his cool demeanor, despite the iciness of his blood, "That, I do not know."

"Fuck," Kenshin spat, his harsh word causing both men to take an involuntary step back. He glared at them both with amber fire in his eyes, debating on his next mode of action. With a harsh shake of his head, he turned quickly on his heel and sprinted for the east side of Kyoto, his heart blinded by rage and an undeniable urge for vengeance.

"Himura san, wait!"

Saito grabbed Aoshi's arm and set off after the Battousai, "Idiot! He's going to kick in the doors of all the local yukuza if we don't stop him!"

*********

"I said knock that off!" Hiko cringed as there was a loud, wet thump, followed by a giggle of glee. Hopelessly, he stared at the boy who pulled himself free of the thick mud he'd just fallen into. The child was as black as a tar, reeking of foul smelling forest muck. His hair was matted into dreadlocks and his once green kimono was now a dingy grayish brown, ripped and torn from the day's exertions. Two diamond like eyes peered out from behind a mask of sticky mud, dancing mischievously. He remained seated in the muck, squishing it between his now bare feet, both sandals and tabi long since lost during the trek up the mountain.

Hiko let out an angry sigh and stalked back to where the boy sat, grabbing him again by the collar of his ruined kimono. He had half the mind to throw the boy into the river, but decided against it, knowing the child probably couldn't swim yet. "Baka kodomo, you managed to fall in every puddle we passed by! Are you really as clumsy as that idiot student of mine?"

Kenji smiled innocently, small white teeth gleaming in sharp contrast to his mud blackened face.

Hiko set the boy down, glaring at him and shaking the muck off his hand. "Now you listen to me boy," he kept his voice stern and authoritative, "This is my home, you'll do as I say, no question's asked."

Kenji just stared at him, smiling his angelic smile, but not necessarily agreeing with the man who stood before him.

Hiko shook his head and turned back to the trail. He could see the small outline of his cabin in the darkness and felt relief. Surely, after a bath and hot meal, the boy would go to sleep. If his memory was correct, young children slept a lot. At least he hoped that was the truth, he was not a young man anymore, and today's events were making him tired, as much as he hated to admit it. He would question the boy in the morning, then decided what to do with him.

Hiko opened the door of his home, pointing at Kenji to remain in the doorway while he lit the fire and lamps, surprisingly the child obeyed. Once settled and his things put away, Hiko turned to the child standing on the door mat, who watched him curiously, a sucking on a dirty finger.

__

"Ugh, he's filthy," Hiko grimaced, looking the boy up and down. The mat was already puddling with wet mud, and the boy's kimono hung heavily from his small frame. Hiko stooped down close and with his fingertips began to untie the boy's obi, trying to remove the disgusting mess of rags.

Kenji frowned slightly, and took a step back, shaking his matted hair. "No," he stated, not wanting the man to remove his clothing. 

"Knock it off kid," Hiko growled, irritated. He reached for the boy again and was met with a sharp slap of the hand. Surprised, Hiko pulled his own hand back, rubbing it slightly. 

He met Kenji's narrowed gaze with his own black glare, "Fine, go ahead and sit around in those clothes." He suppressed a wicked grin, "But when that black mud starts to eat away your skin, don't come crying to me." He stood up and made like he was going to begin fixing supper, unconcerned with the look of horror that now played upon the boy's face.

Kenji had his own clothes off in a matter of seconds, jumping up and down on the mat like a rabbit on hot coals. 

It took all the strength Hiko had to maintain a straight face. Laughter threatened to bellow forth at any minute as he watched the boy stare at him with panicked eyes, flapping his hands up and down like a wounded bird. He reveled in his own use of cunning, _"Two can play this game chibi raion,"_ he thought to himself as he picked the child up and carried him to the makeshift bathhouse outside.

The bath took longer than expected, Kenji insisting on using an entire bottle of soap to cleanse himself of the flesh eating muck, and scrubbing himself almost raw with a wash cloth. Hiko was impressed how well the boy managed to clean himself, only having to help the child wash his hair. 

A new problem posed itself now and Hiko frowned in thought. The child had no clothing. Hiko could wash the kimono, but he knew the child would refuse to wear it after the tale he'd been told. He scrunched his brow slightly, his eyes landing on a dusty trunk in the corner. _"Hmmm, maybe…"_ He shoved away some of the books that were stacked carelessly on top and pulled it into the center of the room. Working the rusty latches free, he rummaged around inside, smiling as he found what he was looking for.

"Come 'ere boy," he barked.

Kenji made a slight protest as he stood in the center of the room, his hands swallowed up by sleeves far to long, grasping the top of a pair of pants that threatened to fall down if he let go. The collar of the shirt fell over one shoulder, leaving it exposed, and if Kenji wanted to, he could probably fit his entire body through that same collar. To illustrate his discomfort, he let go of the pants, took a few steps forward, and fell onto his face, his legs tangled up in the thin, brown fabric.

"Hmm," Hiko muttered, rubbing his chin, "I guess your father's clothes aren't going to fit you just yet." Hiko grabbed the child off the floor and stripped him again, tossing the pants into a corner and eyeing the shirt. It had promise. He moved to the other side of the room and drew his sword, slicing off the sleeves and cutting it up the middle. Out of the discarded sleeves, he fashioned an obi of sorts, smiling at his ingenious. It was a crude kimono, but it would do until he could find suitable clothing for the boy.

Kenji made a sharp gasp of surprise and grinned his approval.

"Yes, my intelligence and amazing mind are yet to be surpassed child," Hiko beamed while Kenji scowled.

Kenji watched Hiko eat his rice and fish intently. He held his own set of chopsticks in one tiny hand, slightly perturbed at the man's disregard of his current plight. He tried to mimic the motions of the larger man, but his own utensils refused to cooperate. Repeated they fell to the floor or onto his lap, only adding to his agitation. His food was still steaming in front of him, untouched, and his belly grumbled in protest. 

"What's the matter chibi raion," Hiko asked, cocking an eye at the apparently annoyed child, "Not hungry?" 

Kenji frowned at him, holding up a chopstick in spear like fashion. "Humph," he grunted, bringing it down with amazing force to the other man's tray, spearing his fish. 

Hiko stared at the skewered fish and scattered rice, then back at Kenji. "If you needed help, you could have just asked me instead of destroying my dinner."

Hiko unrolled his futon, straining against weary muscles. Fatigue made his eyes heavy, and he sighed with relief as he readied for bed. How nice it would be to lie down and let sleep take him over, the day had been a long one and tomorrow would probably be worse. He would have to discover the answers about his student and family, no matter how gruesome or disheartening the details.

He watched the Himura child sleeping soundly on a make shift bed next to the fire and smiled. He liked the boy and was impressed with the spirit he possessed. He was not surprised though, both the boys parents were amazing people, courageous, passionate, and intelligent. His baka deshi was never stupid, just irrational and ignorant. Hiko would never tell him that in person though. It was just best not to tell people about their best traits too often, constant compliments make for a large ego. 

Hiko sighed and shook his head, moving to where Kenji lay, and pulling the blanket closer around the boys neck. Tomorrow, he would decide if the boy stayed with him. He had to find his answers.

__

Kenshin needs to take a chill pill, though I know I'd be a nut case if my son was missing….Hiko out witting Kenji in typical Hiko style….poor kid, he'll never think of mud the same way again!!! Kenji's not finished with him yet, morning still has to come….hee hee!


	10. Chapter 10

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Well, I'll finish this up in the next couple chapters….so this fic is finally coming to an end! * listening for sighs of relief * I still can't end the madness just yet though, our friend Hiko hasn't had a taste of the full force of Himura Kenji…Kenshin's still up to no good, tearing up the town no doubt, looking for his son….blah blah blah…so there are some loose ends to tie up…then I have a couple of ideas for a new fic….Bwhahahahahaha….just kidding….you can omit any evil laughter….

Standard disclaimers apply

Chapter 10

Kenshin prowled the gambling house like a tiger stalking its prey. Quietly he moved through the smoky room, listening carefully to the slurred and sometimes vulgar conversation going on about him. Several of the men stared at him with threatening eyes, watching him suspiciously, but Kenshin disregarded them like flies on a bulls back. He was far more dangerous than them in his current state, his agitation displayed clearly upon his face.

Two men guffawed loudly in the corner, holding their stomachs in attempt to contain their laughter. The sudden noise made Kenshin jump slightly, his nerves already on edge.

"…and then the boy came crying back to his father, all bruised and battered. He said Tatsuma's boys jumped him in the ally way by the sake shop, but his little cousin told a very different story!" The man laughed again as he recalled the tale in his head, struggling to maintain his composure. "Apparently a little whelp with strange red hair pulled an awning down on top of that idiot, Aki, when Aki tried to grab him." The large man and his companion roared in laughter, slapping each other on the back.

"What kind of yakuza is that kid going to make when he gets older, getting beat up by children!" The men laughed again and chugged their sake in agreement.

"I hope Aki doesn't find that boy alone," the other man stated, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

Kenshin's head had snapped around when he heard talk of red hair. He had positioned himself in the shadows until then, watching and waiting for this exact moment, word of his son. Forcing himself to remain calm, he pushed away from the wall, and stalked closer to the table. Amber eyes locked onto the two men and held them in a snake like trance. The entire hall became hushed as the red hair man moved slowly, his liquid steps restrained and one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Where is the boy now," he hissed, his words pure acid. His eyes narrowed and the muscles along his jaw worked noticeably as he clenched and unclenched his teeth against the urge to grab one of the men and shake them until they gave him the information he demanded. 

The two thugs immediately ceased their laughter and turned their attention to the man who now stood next to their table.

"I want to know where my son is," the small swordsman spoke again, this time his tone deepening into a sound not unlike steel against an iron sheath.

"You mean that red haired brat," one of the men asked, finding his voice and nerve. The red haired samurai before them was pathetically small, and ridiculously outnumbered, he posed no threat. 

Kenshin's lip curled, his patience dangling by a silken strand.

"Tell him what he wants to know," a voice echoed from the door way, "It's not wise to taunt the hitokiri battousai."

Both men shoved their chairs back, trying to distance themselves from the red haired man. Kenshin turned his head slightly at the sound of Saito's voice, his scowl deepening as the man announced his former title. He suspected that some of them men in here were suspicious of who he was, and that's why no one had made a move on him yet. The legacy of the Battousai would never die, nor would the fear in people's hearts.

"TELL ME," Kenshin shouted, followed by a low growl echoing from inside his chest.

Everyone in the hall jumped, and a few tried to move towards the door only to be stopped by the man they recognized as Inspector Fugita, the city's detective, but notoriously dangerous. It was rumored that he was a former shinsengumi leader and the current situation only made the tale even more believable.

"I…I…don't know where the boy is," one of the drunken men whispered, putting a hand over his face, "I only heard the tale from Tsuchida Kitase, Tsuchida Aki's uncle!" The man whimpered slightly as Kenshin's hand twitched over the hilt of his sword.

"Where do I find these Tsuchida's?"

"I know where they reside, Himura san. I suspect Saito would know as well."

A hushed whisper rippled through the crowd as the former leader of the oniwaban stepped into the room and addressed the Battousai. Though the hall had seen it's share of killers, thieves, and miscreants, three more dangerous men had never stepped foot inside before. When Kenshin and his two companions' stepped through the doorway, exiting the gaming hall, a very audible sigh of relief could be heard in unison.

"Shall we go question the boy," Saito asked, lighting a cigarette, smirking in satisfaction at the gambling hall.

"Hai," Kenshin replied foully. 

***********

Hiko was having a bad dream. Some one was watching him, following his every move from deep inside the shadows of the forest. He could feel cold eyes boring into his soul and wrenching away his inner most secrets. He kept one hand poised at the hilt of his katana, waiting for the moment when his stalker would strike.

"GAHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Hiko's arms and legs flew out from underneath the blankets of his futon as a large mass landed square in the center of his stomach. He sat straight up, flinging the ball of wriggling blankets away from him, putting one hand to his chest, praying his heart would not coming pounding out of it. Gasping for breath he jerked his head in the direction of the discarded bed coverings.

"For the love of Kami sama," he shouted as Kenji bore his way free of the heavy fabric, laughing and clapping his hands, "Don't do that!" Kenji only laughed harder, his angelic giggles breaking though the crisp morning air.

Hiko fumed, frustrated that a mere child had snuck up on him, the Master of Hiten Mitsurugi, and nearly given him a heart attack. He glared at the boy, who now jumped up and down on the cold wooden floor, smiling like a clown and squealing like a banshee. _"Where does he get his energy? It's barely daylight out," _Hiko muttered, rubbing the sleep from one of his eyes.

"Hey, baka kodomo, go get some water," Hiko barked, hoping that assigning a chore to his new charge would give him a few more moments of sleep. The boy's father was good at fetching water, it seemed a fitting task for the son. He pointed to the bucket, then to the door and lay back down.

Kenji stared at the bucket, which was almost as tall as he was. He didn't mind the chore, it didn't sound like it would be too hard of a task, if given the proper tools. He frowned at Hiko, who had started to snore softly again. Gritting his teeth, the small child issued the wooden bucket a swift kick and sent it crashing into the wall above Hiko's head. The man sat up, slowly this time, and glared at the boy.

"What's the matter now," he growled.

"Too big," Kenji stated, pointing to the bucket. "Baka," he added for emphasis. Any person with half a brain could tell he couldn't carry that bucket empty, let alone full of water.

Kenji promptly found himself set outside on the doorstep, a smaller wooden tub in hand. He flinched as the door slammed shut behind him, leaving him alone in the morning sun.

Kenji like mornings the best. He loved getting up to see the sun rise with his father, who would sit with him on the dojo porch until the morning light bathed them in golden sunlight. Only then would the two of them retreat to the kitchen and start to prepare breakfast for his mother, Yahiko, and Uncle Sano. His mornings were always full of laughter and hugs, but today was different. 

The man in the house apparently didn't like mornings too much and that didn't sit well with Kenji. He stared out at the forest, which seemed to grow larger and larger before his eyes. He remembered the dangerous mud puddles he'd fallen in on his way up the mountain. There had been a lot of puddles near the river. He frowned, looking at his bare feet. If he went down there, he would get dirty again and that horrible muck would get on him. Surely the dark eyed man wouldn't want anything bad to happen to him. 

The only conclusion Kenji could come up with was there had to be another source of water closer to the house. He surveyed the clearing that served as the yard, and frowned at its desolation. Carrying the tub with two small hands, he perched himself on the log that lay in front of the kiln. He could see no well, at least not one like he had at his house in Tokyo, but there had to be a source of water somewhere. Swinging his bare feet against the log, he chewed his lip in thought.

Slowly, he craned his head to look at the bathhouse, his small brow twitching in thought.

************

"Himura san," Aoshi said, placing a hand on the man's shoulder, "If this last contact does not turn up any new leads, we must go back to the Aoiya and rest." It was hard to believe that morning was already underway, the sun rising into the sky and warming the air around them steadily. The former okashira could see the weariness on Himura's face, he was no longer moving of his own accord, his emotions fueling whatever energy he had left. If he kept it up, he'd drop from exhaustion, and that would not do anyone any good.

Kenshin jerked his shoulder away, snarling at the man, his mood unable to be tempered even the gentle hovering of the rurouni in his mind. The inhabitants of the Tsuchida residence were none too pleased when Kenshin kicked in their door, demanding to see the father of the boy he only knew as Aki. A small fray began, the most difficult task proving to be Aoshi and Saito protecting the insufferable family of thugs from Kenshin's unraveling resolve. The boy, Aki, cowered in a corner when learning the small child he threatened earlier was the son of hitokiri battousai. He cried and begged for the life of his family, and only then did Kenshin soften, looking almost repulsed by his own behavior. He offered no apology though, maintaining the cold, indifference of the manslayer he once was, and was on the verge of becoming again.

"You'd be wise to remember, child, not all small opponents are weak," he stated bluntly, catching the boy in his golden gaze, "You are weak, that's why you seek out the smallest and hurt them." The boy only nodded and hid his face in the folds of his father's kimono.

The man shakily retold the story Aki had told him, not wanting to believe that his son was outwitted by a three-year-old. A rival gang's son's had caught his boy off guard and almost killed him, he was already planning on paying the Tatsuma family a visit the following day.

"Lies. Do not underestimate my son, he's capable of things far beyond the reason of a common child," Kenshin emphasized the word common and glanced at Aki, "I want to speak with your brother and niece. Where are they?"

Tsuchida protested at first, but with a bit more persuasiveness only the battousai was capable of, the man disclosed his brother's house and sent them on their way. He was left with a final warning, "Any action upon my family will bring you the utmost regret. Never forget that." Tsuchida only nodded, waving away the henchmen that threatened to follow. He had no desire to be hunted down like a dog by the most deadly man in Japan, this was an incident he'd let pass.

Things went a little easier at the home of Tsuchida Kitase. He cooperated fully, waking his daughter once he learned who his visitors were and that they had paid his brother a visit already. By the looks on their faces, it had not been a pleasant one. Kitase held no love for the business his brother ran, and was thankful that his insufferable nephew finally got the scare he disserved. The boy, who had even broken his daughters arm at one point in time, constantly tormented his her.

The girl, Miyu, was a charming child. She smiled at the red haired man through sleepy eyes and retold the story of her courageous little savior. 

Kenshin's eyes softened as he listened to the tale, becoming slightly stingy with tears. His courageous little son stood up for a young girl, throwing himself into danger for the well being of an innocent who could not protect themselves. He cringed slightly when the girl told him of the boy bringing down the awning, along with half the roof, and taking out a window of the shop in the process. Such recklessness was destined for disaster, and Kenji was lucky he wasn't harmed, but he did commend the boy's resourcefulness.

"You're his daddy, aren't you," the girl had asked.

Kenshin nodded, trying to hide the pain he felt.

"You look like him, but your eyes are different," she pointed out, "Why aren't you with him?"

He swallowed against the lump rising in his throat, "I cannot find him. I'm afraid he's gotten lost."

The little girl tugged thoughtfully at her yakuta, "You should ask the lady at the shop. She might know where he went." Shyly, the girl put her hand inside his own and leaned close to his ear, "When you find him, tell him thank you for me."

Gold mingled with violet momentarily, and he allowed a small, sad smile to play on his lips, "I'll do that Miyu chan," he whispered.

*************

Hiko stirred the Miso soup as Kenji munched on a rice ball behind him. He was impressed the boy had actually managed to complete the chore he was assigned, though it had taken him forever and he returned absolutely soaked. It didn't really surprise him much though, the boy was a magnet for disaster, that was a definite fact. Instead, Hiko shrugged off the wet puddles on the floor, wrapped the boy in a towel, hung his clothes out to dry, and began preparing breakfast.

Throwing in a few radishes, Hiko turned to Kenji and stared at him with a look of seriousness. Kenji blinked and looked around him, trying to find the source of the man's discomfort.

"What do you know of swordsmanship Kenji chan," Hiko asked suddenly, using the child's given name for only the second time since he'd met him.

Kenji's eyes widened, shocked that the man actually wanted to talk to him. The funny man did a lot of yelling, but not talking, it seemed strange. Kenji shrugged, "Hit'n Miten-ugi Ryuu," he replied, taking another bite of rice.

"Did your father teach you that?"

Kenji nodded.

"What's your father's name?" Hiko knew who the boy's father was, but he wanted to hear it from the boy's own mouth.

"Father."

Hiko rolled his eyes, "No child! The name other people call him!"

Kenji scrunched his face in thought. He only knew his mother and father as such, their given names were only fleeting words in his head that he was just starting to grasp. 

"Oh!"

Hiko cocked his head at the boy, waiting.

"Kenshin no baka!" His mother called his father that all the time.

Hiko started to laugh a giant, melodious laugh that resounded off the walls of the small cabin. "That sounds about right chibi raion!" He slapped Kenji on the back, knocking him to the floor before turning back to stir the soup.

By the time the soup was completed, Kenji's face, hair, and towel were covered with rice. He polished off three rice balls at the astonishment of Hiko. The boy was pathetically skinny, but so was his father. Kenshin always ate him out of house and home when growing up, his appetite as ferocious as a bear's, but he never put on a pound, no matter how much he ate. Birds were like that though, small animals with rapid metabolisms and a need for large amounts of food. Both father and son were frail looking enough to be birds, but their sharp cunning and deadly wits made them dangerous as wolves. 

Kenji protested the soup that was set before him, his belly stuffed and besides, it smelled funny. Hiko fumed at the boy and ranted about slaving over a hot fire for him, and insisted he sit quietly while the master finished his meal. Kenji just shrugged, he didn't care, he wasn't going anywhere. He sat silently, his tiny hands folded in his lap and watched Hiko take a bite of soup.

Liquid sprayed out of the man's mouth. He began to gag and choke, reaching for a nearby bottle of sake to relieve the foul taste in his mouth. His face paled several shades as he gulped the alcohol greedily. 

Kenji stared at him in surprise. 

"Hot?" he asked in his small, quiet voice, concern dotting his face.

Hiko glared at him over the rim of his sake jug, pulling the bottle away from his lips with a plunk. "NO! It's not hot," he shouted heatedly, "Where did you get that water?"

Kenji gave the man a look like he'd lost his mind and pointed at the door.

"I know you got it from out there! But where?! It tastes like bath water!" Hiko took another swig of sake, his mouth becoming dry from the foul taste of soap. He could taste the grit of dirt in his mouth.

Kenji nodded, his face beaming. "Good water, " he laughed, pleased with himself, "Clean!"

********

The trio of men walked through the door of the liquor store, the floorboards creaking beneath their feet and the stale smell of alcohol filling their noses.

"Don't go scaring the wits out of the owner Battousai," Saito chided as the moved to the back of the shop.

Kenshin snorted at the man, but ignored his teasing.

"May I help you?" 

Kenshin bowed to a middle-aged woman in a dusty black kimono. "I am looking for a boy and heard you might have some news of him." He looked at her with almost pleading eyes, noting her slight frown.

"A boy? I see lots of boys in this place. Most of them are too young to handle what I sell, but I'll try to help you sir."

Kenshin bowed again in gratitude, "My son is lost. We heard he played a part in a disturbance here yesterday evening. He has…"

"Red hair and pale eyes?" the woman asked sharply.

Kenshin nodded, his heart soaring, "You've seen him?"

The woman nodded, "Yes, he was here, that blasted Aki tried to blame the disaster on him. Said the boy took down my roof and broke my window. Preposterous! A tiny thing like him!"

Kenshin glanced away quickly, biting his lip slightly, "Yes, he is small and has red hair like mine! Do you know where he went?"

The woman shook her head slowly, "I'm sorry sir, I do not. I took the liberty of dragging that Tsuchida boy all the way home and making his father pay for the damages. I didn't see where the child went after I'd gone, nor have I heard of his whereabouts. Have you checked the orphanage?"

The news was too much for Kenshin to bear. His last hope finally shattered and he slumped forward, barely able to keep himself upright. His son was right there, in his grasp, but at the same time, so far away. He suddenly felt very tired, the events of the past day finally crashing into him with the force of a hurricane. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and maintain a respectable composure.

Aoshi put his hand out and steadied the man, aware Kenshin was about to fall into a heap upon the poor woman's floor. "Thank you, you're most kind. If you hear anything, please contact Okina at the Aoiya."

The woman nodded, her eyes filled with pity for the distraught and exhausted red haired man. She watched as Aoshi moved him to the doorway of her shop, leading him like a beaten child around the crates and boxes.

Saito frowned, also watching the pair, "Tell me madam, do you think any of your customers would know where the boy is?"

Aoshi and Kenshin paused, just short of the doorway, while the woman frowned in thought. "Maybe," she pondered, tapping a finger to her skull.

"Was there anyone here when the accident occurred?" the police officer pushed, hoping to force a memory or something useful from the woman's brain.

The woman shook her head slightly, "No, it was pretty quiet last night due to the festival. The only person who came in around the time of the accident was Hiko san, but he wouldn't be much help to you. He's not much of a people person, and I can't see him taking much interest in the well being of a child. Thinks he's too good for the world, that he does," the woman snorted.

Kenshin's head shot up and he moved quickly to the woman's side. "Hiko was here? Hiko Seijuro?" He grabbed the woman's hand with out thinking, violet and amber eyes swirling in anticipation.

"You know that man?"

"Was he here last night?" Kenshin asked again, ignoring her question.

The woman nodded slowly, glancing at Aoshi and Saito, who both looked as stunned as the samurai who grasped her hand like a pleading boy. "Yes, he was here. But he wouldn't…"

Kenshin dropped her hand and bowed several times, "Thank you! Thank you so much!" He quickly turned to Saito and Aoshi, motioning for the door.

Outside, he turned to the men and for the first time in over twenty-four hours smiled his normal rurouni smile. His face was marred with fatigue, heavy dark circles darkened his eyes and his skin was sickly pale, but he glowed with a happiness that was without compare. The two other men gazed at him, both with mild concern, wondering if he'd finally lost his mind for good. "I'm tired, " he suddenly stated, "Let's go back to the Aoiya." He turned on his heel and started up the street, leaving both Saito and Aoshi staring at him.

"Battousai, are you going to explain yourself to us? I think that's only fair since we followed you around all night and kept you from killing innocent people," Saito shouted after the samurai. Aoshi silently agreed, his red haired companion's sudden mood swing and complete lack of concern for his son, utterly baffling. It was only fitting they know what was going on.

Kenshin stopped, his back still to them as if thinking, and waited for them to catch up. "Kenji chan is okay. I know that now. He's with shishou." There was no doubt in his mind that his master would see the child for what he was and know instantly who he belonged too. Hiko might be arrogant and rude, but he was not cruel at heart. His son could not be in better hands right now. In fact, Kenshin almost laughed at his son's dumb luck. The boy was full of it and Kenshin finally understood why Sano often wanted to take the boy gambling with him.

"Huh? How do you know that?" Saito frowned at the man, irritated, "Well, aren't you going to go get him now? After the way you behaved, I'd think you'd be running up that mountain to retrieve your whelp!"

Kenshin turned to face them men slowly, placing a hand on each of their shoulders in thanks. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as he thought of his master alone with his son. "I just know Saito. Aoshi is right, I need to rest. I could not tackle the mountain as I am now and Kenji is safe with shishou." 

Saito grunted in response, "Well, after all the time and effort I put into this squirrel hunt, I'm going to see it out to the end."

Aoshi stared at Kenshin as they walked, quietly observing the man from beneath long bangs. "The question is then, is your shishou safe with Himura chan?"

Not bother to look at either man, Kenshin bowed his head and grinned, "Exactly." 

__

I actually laughed out loud when I wrote this chapter. I don't know if it's even funny or not, but I found it amusing…LOL When you lead a hermit's life like me, you have to amuse yourself. As for the mud thingy (previous chapter) I've actually told my son fibs before when he was being particularly stubborn about something…nothing as extreme as "your skin will be eaten off" but fibs none the less…if anyone here has kids, you'll understand what I'm talking about…LOL So, finally, Kenshin figured it all out and has decided to leave his son in the hands of Hiko while he gets some rest…the rurouni has a wicked streak indeed! What will Kaoru and Yahiko have to say about it…What will Saito think of little Kenji chan? Hee hee hee!


	11. Chapter 11

__

Wow Susan, 1:30 in the morning? LOL Thank you for being such an avid reader! I'm glad you like my fic and if I have managed to make a few people smile, I've done my job and am content! As for Saito's kids…it's an interesting idea for an entirely different fic…I'm not sure if I'm confident enough to tackle that one though…writing Aoshi and Saito is difficult, as is Kenji…but maybe I'll give it a whirl sometime soon. I'm a horrible speller, as if you all didn't notice, especially when it comes to the Japanese terms…I've seen them spelled so many different ways, I'm not sure which is right…Saito's name is a perfect example actually, so I opted to spell it the way it was written on the back of my DVD box…ingenious huh? LOL So bear with me, maybe I'll get it right sometime in the near future!

Standard disclaimers apply

Chapter 11

"I see them! They're returning!" Misao leapt from her seat on the porch and wiped away any remnants of tears from her eyes. The night had been long, filled with worry and sadness. No one had slept, each person locked up deep inside themselves, afraid to dare rest due to the nightmares that would indefinitely follow. Even awake they were all plagued by panic, fear, and thoughts of the worst possible scenario. What if Kenji chan was never found, or worse, what if he was found but no longer of this world. No one could bring themselves to say such a thing, but it was never far from their thoughts. The effect on Himura san would be horrific, to say the least. Not even the discovery of Kaoru's body on the dojo wall could mirror the pain he'd feel if his child were killed by a cruel hand. The consequences would be devastating for them all.

She strained to see the search party as it moved slowly up the street, silhouetted by the brightness of the morning sun. There were three figures, two tall and slender, the other significantly shorter but far to tall to be a child of Kenji's age. Misao's heart fell, Kenji chan was not with them, obviously still missing. She closed her eyes and said a prayer, asking the gods to give them strength and moved into the street to greet the men.

"Aoshi sama," she choked, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She was surprised she had any left, having sat and cried underneath the stars, feeling the pain and grief of her friends and as well as her own helplessness. She glanced at Saito, glaring at him briefly and wiping a cheek with the back of her hand. 

Aoshi stopped and stared at her impassively. He studied her face, which was streaked with tears and swollen from endless sobbing. Her large eyes, usually dancing pools of blue, were now red and bloodshot, almost lifeless and lackluster. He admired her courage, her ability to feel so much for the people around her. He knew nothing of other people's pains, but far too much about his own. He was beginning to understand though, the disappearance of Himura chan, Himura's reaction, and his own strange need to find and secure the child who had touched him so deeply with his innocence, strangely fitting the pieces of his own puzzle into place. Peace could not be found through meditation alone, nor could it be achieved by burying ones self under mounds of paper work. The only way to truly live with yourself was to allow yourself feel and feel for the others around you. It was a foreign concept to him, but somehow it seemed to make sense.

Hesitantly, he reached out and touched the girl on the shoulder. It was all his mind would allow for right now, larger steps would come later. "It's okay Misao chan," he replied, motioning to Kenshin, who looked like he was about to drop at any moment.

Kenshin took a tired step forward, casting the ninja girl a slight smile, "Kenji chan will be okay, that he will." He offered nothing more, and moved past her into the Aoiya, leaving Aoshi and Saito to explain. There were more important matters to attend to right now, two people from his family needed him right now and he needed them. 

He found Yahiko in the courtyard out back, his back propped against one of the walls, shinai held securely across his lap. It looked as if he was sleeping, and Kenshin smiled at the familiar position. Quietly he stole up next to the boy, touching his head gently, trying not to start him awake. "Yahiko," he whispered, stooping down.

The boy's eyes fluttered open, a frustrated frown crossing his face. He had managed to doze off into a restless nap, his mind far to tired to comprehend who had woken him from the much-needed sleep.

"Yahiko," Kenshin said again, hating to stir the boy, but needing to assure him that all was well, "It's me. Kenji is alright."

The young samurai's eyes shot open and he knocked Kenshin onto his rump as he sprung forward. "Kenshin," he shouted in surprise, "What did you say?" He looked behind the man, his dark eyes searching for the familiar face of his red haired little brother.

Kenshin laughed and steadied himself, "Kenji chan is going to be fine. He is with my master."

"Your master? Hiko sama?" Yahiko frowned at Kenshin, his face confused, but relieved as well, "How? Why? Where is…" He was ecstatic the child had been found, a huge weight lifted itself from his chest and he steadied himself against the urge to throw his arms around the samurai.

Kenshin sighed and stopped the boy with his hand. He was far to exhausted to answer a hundred questions that no doubtedly the boy had. "Maa, maa Yahiko. All that matters now is that he's safe. I'm very tired and need to rest. When I wake up, we'll go retrieve Kenji from shishou." He cast the boy a slight smile, which twitched as he mentioned his master.

Yahiko pursed his lips in thought, "Are you sure that's a good idea Kenshin?" But the red haired man was already on his way into the building, his only answer was a slow smile as he slid the door shut behind him.

Kenshin rolled his shoulders and neck, listening as the bones creaked and popped. He was almost dizzy with sleep, the world becoming foggy around him and his limbs as heavy as lead. He wanted nothing more than to fall onto his futon and sleep for days. He would have to give his son a stern lecture once he gathered him from his master. Another episode like this one, and Kenshin was sure his life would be docked about thirty more years.

He slid open the door of his room, sucking in his breath when he saw his wife, lying motionless on their futon. The bed covers were huddled tightly around her, and she curled herself into a protective ball at the sound of the door. She wanted no visitors, no company, her posture made that apparent. Kenshin quelled the agony in his heart, he could not bear to see his wife so distraught and drained of her beautiful vigor. Quietly he removed his gi and tabi, setting his sword aside with a slight click against the wall. He moved to the futon and settled next to her, brushing away the strands of hair that fell across her ear.

"Koishii," he breathed, rubbing a hand down her back in a loving and reassuring gesture.

"Kenshin?" Kaoru turned over to face her husband, her face long since dry of tears. She could cry no more, having tossed her soul to the winds of fate, only praying that some sort of miracle would bring her husband and son back to her. She could see the tiredness in his face, he looked so much older than his thirty-three years now, but his eyes danced with the youthful gentleness of the rurouni. She sat up, shoving the away the covers and clutched him to her, holding him so tight he began to protest slightly. "I didn't think you'd come back to me!"

Kenshin pushed her away slightly, bringing his forehead to touch hers, "I will always come back baka," he teased, "And so will our son, because I will always find him." He couldn't help but to feel a little playful. He was truly happy his son was safe, and if he could elicit a smile or even a slap from his wife, he would be fully contented.

"You found Kenji?" Kaoru asked, her eyes glistening with tears of joy, "Where is he!" She looked around her, much the same way Yahiko did, and found nothing.

Kenshin stretched, buying himself time to prepare for his wife's reaction to the news he'd tell her. He gave a mighty yawn and laid down upon the futon. "He's with shishou." He closed his eyes, but every muscle in his body tensed, awaiting her explosion.

"WHAT!" Kaoru grabbed Kenshin and yanked him up by his hair. "How..When..Why didn't you go get him Kenshin!" She shook her husband vigorously until his eyes rolled back into his head. She could not believe his blatant disregard for everything that had happened to them in the past twenty-four hours. Here she was sick with worry and despair, and he was behaving like nothing was amiss!

"Ow Kaoru!" Kenshin yelped, removing her hand from his hair, "Kenji is going to be fine with master. I haven't slept in over a day, and none of us can climb up that mountain with out proper rest. As soon as I take a nap, I'll go fetch our son." He folded her hands into his, smiled softly, and purred, "I'd probably sleep better if you stayed with me koishii." He pulled her down on to the futon with him and wrapped his arms around her, warming at the feel of her breath against his bare chest. His statement was the truth, pure and simple. He always rested better when she was next to him, but this time his words were meant to keep her near him and not go darting off to retrieve their son with out him. There was no way he was going to miss seeing his shishou's face when he appeared to pick up Kenji chan. He grinned almost wickedly and closed his eyes, blessing his son's ingenuity. 

"I hope Hiko san is okay," Kaoru muttered, shifting against her husband's chest.

"Oh, don't worry about shishou, he has a way with children," Kenshin murmured_, "Just as Kenji chan has a way with adults."_ He sighed softly into his wife's hair, a great sense of satisfaction and justice stealing over him as he drifted off into a deep and most welcome sleep.

********

Hiko leaned against his favorite tree next to the river, a fishing pole propped against one boot, and watched the little boy with half closed eyes. Fishing was a form of meditation, claming and quiet, with only the sounds of the river whispering past and the wind laughing in the breeze of the trees. The tranquility of the sport was his favorite past time, even surpassing that of pottery, which required more focus and effort. 

Surprisingly, the boy was relatively quiet, too engrossed in the make shift pole Hiko had made for him out of a piece of tree limb, old line, and rusty hook. He squatted next to the sharp barb, balancing himself perfectly on the smooth rock he insisted as his fishing spot, poking gingerly at the twisted metal. Curiously, he gave the line a couple of jiggles, trying to decide exactly how the whole concept of fishing worked. He had watched his father fish before in the river near their home, but he was never allowed his own pole before. It was absolutely fascinating. Of course, the big man gave him no instruction, just setting him onto the rock of his choice, avoiding the mud holes at all cost, and retreated to a spot under the tree.

Kenji stood up slowly, bringing the pole back carefully, mimicking the motions he'd seen Hiko and his father do many times. Satisfied with his position, he made a slight jerk of his arm, as if to cast, but was only met with resistance. Confused, he gave a couple sharp tugs, his line caught on a small shrub behind him. He heard Hiko laugh slightly and he cast the man a glare, before turning to meet the assaulting bush. With an agitated growl, he gave the pole a sharp tug and the bush gave up its hold on his line. Kenji, not prepared, fell backwards onto the rock, landing hard on his back and hitting his head slightly.

Hiko smirked, his eyes still half closed, shaking his head at the child slightly. The boy's patience wore away quicker than that of his former student. The child was extremely reactive, almost rash at sometimes, but even at his small age, remarkably intelligent. If he could balance the two, he would become a formidable swordsman, surpassing his father by leaps and bounds.

Kenji slowly picked himself up off the slippery rock and rubbed his sore head, glaring at the fishing pole he'd dropped. He made a started cry of dismay, the pole had snapped almost in two, the halves hanging together by a small piece of bark. He picked up the broken stick and shook it slightly, watching as it broke apart and clattered to the ground. Kenji bit his lip and turned large, crystalline eyes to Hiko, lightly grasping the end of his broken toy.

__

"Is he going to cry," Hiko thought, moving to an upright position and fixing his gaze on Kenji. "Kami Sama," Hiko sighed, not waiting to find out if the boy would shed tears. He stood up swiftly, grabbing his own pole, striding over to where Kenji stood. He snatched the child off his rock and thrust his own pole into the boy's hands, positioning himself behind the boy to help steady him. "Okay baka kodomo," he muttered, "I'm only going to show you once, so you better pay attention." He helped the child cast the line into the water, giving a sharp grunt of approval as Kenji laughed happily, his own broken pole forgotten. Fully satisfied the boy was no longer unhappy, Hiko retreated to his spot under the tree, watching as Kenji jiggled the line curiously in the water.

__

"There'll be no fish tonight," Hiko thought, watching the boy. He had not baited the line, knowing all to well the child would not sit still long enough to allow the fish to approach, so there was no sense in wasting good bait. 

Kenji fiddled with the pole, cocking his head when he felt a slight tug, almost too light to really be significant, but enough to catch his attention. Scooting closer the edge, he watched curiously as the water ran past the thin, threadlike line, trying to peer into the foaming river. Suddenly, a massive tug on the line brought him lurching forward, the pole bending almost to the point of snapping in two. Kenji tried to right himself, but his stubborn grip refused to give up the new pole he held in his hands. Another sharp thrust wrenched his arm, and he slipped on the slick moss of his rock, falling forward into the frothing river.

**********

"I can't believe Kenshin is still sleeping," Yahiko muttered, picking at his rice bowl with his chopsticks. Several hours had passed since the search party returned home, and the red hair samurai showed no signs of getting up soon. Yahiko was relieved Kenji was safe with Kenshin's master, but he would only be fully satisfied once the boy was back within their family circle, being carefully watched. None of them would ever be the same again after this trip, and Kenji would lead a shadowed life, constantly being followed by one of his adult protectors.

"He's tired Yahiko kun," Misao replied, "Aoshi sama and Saito san are still asleep as well. They had long night searching for Kenji chan." All the men looked as if they were ready to drop when they returned in the morning, Kenshin being the worst off of the bunch. Aoshi had only briefly retold the tale of their nightly wanderings, before retreating to his room to rest as well. Misao reluctantly fixed a futon for the insufferable former shinsengumi captain, slamming the door behind her as he thanked his gracious weasel hostess.

"I know," Yahiko sighed, "But you'd think he'd be jumping to go get Kenji."

"I'm sure Himura san has his reasons. He trusts his master. Hiko sama would never let anything happen to Kenji chan, I'm sure." Misao cast Yahiko an encouraging smile. Hiko was an amazing man, confident and wise beyond compare. He was a father of sorts to Himura, and in a way, that made him the closest thing to a grandfather that Kenji chan would ever know.

Yahiko grunted slightly, "I suppose, but you haven't heard some of the stories about Kenshin's master."

"What about my master?"

Yahiko and Misao both jumped at the sound of Kenshin's voice, unaware he had quietly stole up on them during the latter half of their conversation. He stood in the doorway, smiling softly, his hair falling around his shoulders in a bright, disheveled mess. "I'd like some lunch before we depart, Misao dono, if that's not too big of a bother."

Misao jumped up, nodding quickly and ran off to the kitchen to prepare Kenshin a tray. Kenshin gave a slight nod of thanks and padded silently on bare feet to where Yahiko sat, settling himself down next to the boy. He yawned big, and stretched his arms, forcing off the remnants of his sleep. "Don't worry Yahiko, master will take good care of Kenji chan. He's a gruff and arrogant man, but he's not cruel."

Yahiko sighed and nodded, "I know Kenshin, but Kenji…"

Kenshin smiled a bit bigger this time, not bothering to look at the boy, "Why don't go you check on Kaoru, she was packing our things when I left the room. She may need some help."

**********

Hiko leapt to his feet, moving with swift speed to the edge of the river, cursing loudly, as he was too late to catch the boy in mid fall. The river, deceivingly gentle, ran with swift undercurrents and swallowed the child up almost immediately. _"Kami, he can't swim!"_ The large man stripped off his white cape and ran along the riverbank, his eyes searching the water's surface. He rounded the bend, and gasped when he saw a flash of dark red bobbing above the surface, moving swiftly with the current's growing speed. He had to reach the child before the river grew even more treacherous, the moving water would increase rapidly as it approached the waterfall, and surely smash the boy against the boulders and jagged rocks that adorned the bottom of the riverbed.

With lightening speed, Hiko dove into the water, using the rapid current to his advantage, keeping his eyes on the barely noticeable gleam of red against the foaming white water. _"By the love of all things holy child! When I get my hands on you…" _Inside, the dark haired man was pleading for the boy to be alive, imagining lungs full of water or a small skull being crashed against the rocks with a sickening thud. He had thrown the boy's father into the river many times, but that child was larger, stronger, and able to defend himself against the river's unmerciful wrath. If he didn't reach young Kenji soon, his student's child would definitely die a horrible death. 

The feeling of panic was foreign to Hiko, and he had no use for it. It inhibited the senses and clouded reasoning, but he could feel the slight twinges of it working on the edges of his soul as he watched the spark of red hair disappear again beneath the water ahead of him. With a surge of massive muscles, Hiko swam harder, keeping his eyes on the place the child disappeared, his quick mind predicting the path the current would take the child. _"Please be alive baka kodomo,"_ he thought as he dove beneath the water's surface, a large hand thrust before him, groping the murky water.

He felt his hand brush against something cool and spongy, instinctively, fingers clasped around the small, stick thin object. With a mighty heave, Hiko thrust himself from beneath the water's surface, hauling the limp form of Kenji above the water. The current rushed around him, propelling him forward with an unrelenting force that even he was powerless against. As air entered his lungs, he hissed against the burn in his chest, turning his head slightly as the water crashed him against a sharp rock. "Che," he growled, wincing slightly at the stone cut into his shoulder, _"I'm getting to old for this kind of thing. Oh, Kami Sama…" _

As he looked up, the forest horizon spread out before him in a magnificent view. Miles, upon miles of trees and mountains spanned out in a breath-taking scene as the canyon opened up. The roar of water deafened his ears and thrummed against his temples. Hiko braced himself for what he knew was now unavoidable. He had hoped to reach the boy before the water carried them as far at the towering falls, but it was inevitable now, they were going to go over and it was a long fall to the bottom.

Clasping the wet and limp body of Kenji close to his chest, Hiko allowed them to be carried over the edge of the fall. Controlling his balance with remarkable ease, he shifted into a dive, hoping to gain some momentum by gaining speed. It would take a massive amount of effort to get back to the topside bank, and the more speed he had, the easier it would be. One wrong move would send them both crashing into the rocky bottom of the falls. An eagle sharp eye caught sight of a protruding ledge, barely large enough for his foot. Swiftly calculating his speed and the angle of the rock, the Hiten Mitsurugi master shifted himself acrobatically in the air, preparing for the searing contact of his boot against the ledge.

Spring tight muscles jarred with the impact and sent them propelling upwards now, the sting of water biting into the flesh at the force of their upward momentum. Hiko kept his face taught with concentration, his only concern to focus all his power on reaching the top of the falls.

__

Thank you to all the reader's who have followed this fic religously. I hope I've made you laugh or smile in some way…I'm currently working on the final chapter, so it should be up soon. I wanted to end this with this chapter, but it would seem I had other plans….Thank you once again for all your support, your all fantastic!


	12. Chapter 12

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Three Susan? Wow, you are brave indeed! I've got one, and he's more than enough! Thanks for reading my stories (all two of them! LOL), I really appreciate your feedback and input! I do have another story planned, two of them actually, another Kenji fic (this seems to be my niche, I'm fascinated with the child) and something along similar lines as well, but I don't want to give it away right now. I'll be heading back to work soon (cringe) so my time will be limited, plus I plan on going back to college (another cringe) and perusing the degree I should have went for in the first place (Animation/Art)….a little of bit of advice to those getting ready to graduate highschool, don't doubt yourself when you go to college, go get the degree you want, not the one that will land you the fastest job…anyhoo, so I'll be busy, but I'll keep writing and reviewing…Thank you everyone, your all awesome! On with the reunion…will Hiko figure out what Kenshin was up to and what will Kenshin think when he finds out his son went for a swim….hmmmmm…..

Standard disclaimers apply

Chapter 12

Hiko connected with the upper bank with ease. Such a feat was nothing really for a master of his caliber, though any other human being would surely be a pile of flesh and bones at the bottom of the falls after such a descent. More than likely, a commoner's heart would have given out half way down, and a death that was surely frightening, but painless to say the least, would occur.

None of that mattered now though, there was no time for egotistical pride of the skills he possessed, the child he still held clasped to his breast was barely breathing. The boy's skin was ashen white and his lips were turning blue around the edges. Hiko put an ear to the boy's small chest, and winced slightly at the gurgling, rasping sounds of water bubbling in the boy's tiny lungs. Each meager breath he took became weaker and weaker, the effort draining him of any strength he had left.

Quickly, the giant man hooked the boy over one arm, tilting his face to the ground and hitting him smartly on the back several times. The young child made a sickening sound as a cough ripped through his throat, and he vomited river water upon the ground. The body trembled slightly in the larger man's arms, the breathing louder now, more forceful, but wheezing and irregular. _"Come on child, open your eyes,"_ Hiko pleaded, laying the boy on his side carefully, hoping the water that still remained would force its way out. He could only pray the boy's incredible spirit would prevail and fend off death.

Kenji could feel the ache in his chest. It hurt to take in air, but at least he could breathe now, the water flowing down his nose and mouth gone. He felt another cough tear at his little throat, and heaved again, throwing up more of the stale water. He was so cold, swimming in darkness, trying to find his way out, barely aware of his surroundings. He wanted his father now, he was afraid of this dark that surrounded him with icy tendrils, trying to consume him. No matter how hard he tried, he could not find the one he searched for, he could not feel him, he was alone in the dark and so very afraid. 

He started to cry. A low, ragged moan at first, slowly echoing into a harsh, piercing wail. Tears welled in his eyes and streamed down his face. It hurt to cry like this, his searing throat and battered lungs protesting, but he didn't care. He was scared and the only person able to console him was no where to be found. He lay on the ground, his cheek pressed to the cold, sandy soil and sobbed.

Hiko smiled with relief as the boy began to cry and sank to the ground next to him. The child would live, the color already coming back to his face and lips, even though he still lay on the ground, face pressed to the sandy soil, eyes bound tightly shut. _"Cry all you want chicchai riaon. I'll be mad at you later," _Hiko thought to himself as he closed his eyes and ran callused fingers through his wet hair.

**********

Kenshin paused as he climbed the face of the mountain, frowning slightly at the trail ahead of him. The afternoon sun was slowly waning away over the trees, in its last stages of brightness before it faded to into dusk. The air was cool and damp and a slight breeze shifted in the trees. As always, the forest was at it's most beautiful, almost calming and inviting, but Kenshin felt uneasy. He could have sworn he heard something on the wind, a sad, frightened cry that made his hair stand on end.

"Kenshin?" a small voice asked from behind him, "Are you okay?"

The samurai turned to look down at his wife, his face drawn into a tight frown. He only nodded slightly, forcing his rurouni grin to come forth as he extended a hand and helped Kaoru over the rock he was standing on. He surveyed the rest of his companions, sighing as he watched Misao deliver a swift kick to Yahiko for pushing her into a small bog of mud. It was just his imagination, he decided, his nerves still on edge from the previous night and lack of sleep. Still, he wanted to hurry now and he motioned for his followers to quicken their steps. "Come on Yahiko, Misao, there's no time for goofing off."

The two younger travelers stopped their fighting, noting the sharpness in Kenshin's voice. It was rare for him to snap at anyone, and it wasn't to be ignored when he did. They immediately stopped their petty squabble and complied, hastening their steps.

"Your worried about something," Kaoru pressed, grasping Kenshin's gi for support as she tried to clamber up the next rock, cursing herself for not bringing her training clothes. She didn't remember the trail to Hiko's cabin being so rough before, but the forest changed rapidly with each passing season, so it really wasn't that much of a surprise. 

"Just nerves, koishii," Kenshin answered, putting his hands around his wife's thin waist and lifting over the boulder.

**********

Hiko picked at an ear and looked at the tiny boy sullenly. The child still cried, though not quite as loud now, but it was still enough to make the larger man's ears ring. He frowned at the boy who sat wrapped in a towel in front of the fire, his red hair matted to his face, and nose dripping with goo. "Chibi raion, that's enough. Crying isn't going to do you any good now, so knock it off," Hiko barked suddenly.

Kenji turned to stare at the man, his cries reduced to hiccups and an occasional sob that wracked his tiny body. His bottom lip trembled and eyes still spilt tears, but he abided with the man's orders. He was still very frightened and alone, not really understanding the implications of the event, but instinct told him that something very bad could have happened to him if it wasn't for the giant man who pulled him from the river. He stood on shaky legs and climbed into Hiko's lap, pressing himself against the man's chest. Little whimpers escaped his throat as he fought back the urge to cry out again and his tiny body shook with fear.

Stunned, Hiko stared with astonishment at the small boy who held him so close. Had he ever been this small and scared himself, he wondered, watching the boy huddle himself into a ball against the folds of his cape. He never thought about his own childhood, he couldn't remember anything about it. Fear was something he didn't know, or possibly, couldn't recall. He felt slightly guilty for shouting at the young boy, and timidly put his arms around the trembling child, uncertain what to do or say. 

"It's okay Kenji chan. You don't need to cry anymore, crying won't make things better. Just learn from your mistakes child, and try not to be afraid." Never before had he touched anyone like this, nor had his voice ever sounded so gentle. Not even in the few years he raised the boy's father had he reached out to console him in such a way. It was a strange irony indeed, but he felt his words rang true and what he was doing was right. The boy was just a baby really, even behind those wise eyes, phenomenal courage, and amazing intelligence.

Kenji sniffed and sighed slightly, his sobs fading into hiccups. He fisted a hand into the man's cloak and raised his head to look at his savior. "All wet. All smelly," he replied quietly, mustering up a halfhearted smile. They both reeked of river water and muck, soaked to the bone during their swim in the chilly river. 

"Hai, and I have no clothes for you baka kodomo," Hiko stated, relieved the boy was overcoming the scare. His former student's old clothing had been used already, so Hiko would have to put his sewing skills to use to fashion another makeshift kimono for the boy. How the townsfolk would laugh if they knew that the 13th master of Hiten Mitsurugi could sew clothing as well as a seamstress. The life of a recluse required many skills though, sewing, cooking, and other domestic chores were among them. 

He moved the child off his lap carefully, pulling away the towel and eyeing every inch of the boy's skinny body. His eyes lingered on a rather nasty gash above the child's right brow, it would leave a slight scar, but wasn't life threatening. The rest of the boy's body was a bit battered, with a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing was broken, as he had feared. The child was incredibly lucky, more so than he'd ever know probably. Death had spared him today, Hiko was sure of it.

He hissed slightly as he moved his own shoulder, touching the deep wound carefully. It would need attention immediately, or infection would definitely set in. The rock had gouged out a considerable amount of flesh, it would not sew up easily, so he would have to settle for a compress and bandage. The boy's clothing issues would have to wait. He tossed the towel back at the boy, whose eyes danced with concern at the man's obvious pain, "Don't look at me like that," Hiko snapped, "Go outside and I'll be there in a minute."

Kenji narrowed his gaze at the bigger man. "Owie," he stated, pointing to the bloodied cloth that stuck to Hiko's shirt, "Big Owie."

Hiko rolled his eyes, "It takes more than a mere scratch like this to hurt me baka. Now go outside, the light is better there and I'll fix both of us up." He shoved the boy gently out the door then began rummaging around his cluttered cabin for the medicine chest. _"I haven't had to use this thing in years,"_ his thoughts grumbled in his head, _"Now where did I put the damn thing…"_

*********

"I can see the cabin!" Yahiko shouted excitedly. He stopped suddenly, causing Misao to run into him and almost fall onto the trail, "Kenshin, are you sure Kenji is here. I mean what if…" He kicked absently at a rock, his fears and worries suddenly returning. They had no real proof Kenji had actually been found by Kenshin's master. It was all an assumption really. If he wasn't at the cabin of Hiko Seijuro, what would they do? What would Kenshin do?

"He's here Yahiko," Kenshin's voice echoed from a few steps behind, "Trust me." Kenshin smiled slightly. His son was with his master, he could feel it in his heart, but something troubled him. It was a feeling of foreboding, as if something had happened, but he could not put his finger on it. Kenji was a magnet for trouble and Kenshin could only hope nothing too horrible had befallen his master.

Yahiko's spirits brightened and he suddenly laughed as he broke into a run along the trail. He trusted Kenshin with his life, there was no way he could be wrong. He wanted to see his brother now, and allowed himself to sprint towards the cabin at full speed, ignoring the cries of Kaoru and Misao to wait for them.

**********

Hiko dabbed the boy's brow with a bit of clean cloth, trying to clear the dirt out of the wound. There were a few pieces of gravel embedded in the gash, where the child's head scraped along the river bottom during his swim. Kenji snarled at him, but was held fast by two strong knees and one massive hand. "Hold still you little rat. Your lucky you have a thick skull or your brains would be feeding the fishes right now," Hiko growled irritably. The boy hissed at him with the venom of snake and squirmed even harder, the fight he almost lost coming back rapidly.

Suddenly, his head snapped around and pale eyes grew large as he gazed at the trail that led up to the cabin. "Oro?" he whispered, growing completely still.

Hiko froze as well, his impeccable hearing picking up the sounds of approaching people and sensing a very familiar ki. He glanced at the boy he held between his knees and grinned wide. _"You picked that up even before I did, didn't you little lion cub. Amazing!"_ Hiko released the child from his grasp and stood up, waiting for the arrival of his unexpected guests. 

So his baka deshi was alive and had come to reclaim his blood. Maybe he wasn't as dumb as Hiko thought he was, being able to figure out where the boy had gone in the first place. It certainly took him long enough though, and Hiko wondered how many people met the end of the sakabatou while his stupid pupil put the pieces of the puzzle together. He was an idiot for letting the boy get away from him in the first place, and Hiko intended on telling him so.

"Father, Mama, Yah-ko…" Kenji whispered softly, his pale eyes glazing over as he watched the clearly visible form of Yahiko running down the path, followed closely by Misao. The boy let out a sudden squeal of elation, throwing down his towel and running as fast as his little legs would carry him. His family had come to find him, all of them together and his heart soared with relief. 

He did not bother to stop at Yahiko, instead running past him, shouting and yelling, his body a streaking white of nakedness in the late afternoon sun. He fell into the arms of his mother, tear's of joy streaming down her face as she clasped her son to her, her voice shaking as she scolded him and told him how much she loved him all at the same time. 

Kenji wriggled free of her grasp, shoving away her questioning fingers as she noticed his bruises and scrapes. Several paces behind his mother stood the one he longed for the most. With a strangled cry, he bound away from his mother and launched himself into the folds of his father's gi, almost knocking the man off his feet.

Kenshin crushed his son close to him, burying his face into his son's hair, murmuring out apologies and promises in a long stream of barely coherent words. His heart burned with happiness, relief, and grief. "I'm so sorry Kenji chan," he said into his son's red locks, "Will you ever forgive me? I'll never lose you again, child!" 

He was answered with a great sob and wet tears against his skin. Startled, he pulled his son away from him and stared into the wet, crystalline eyes. "Kenji, what's wrong," he asked, brushing away the strands of hair that fell into the boys eyes, confused at the tears he saw streaming down the boy's face. Kenji never cried, but apparently, the boy was distraught enough to wail like the child he was now. Kenshin was almost relieved by the crying, is signified his son was at least partially normal, but he quickly noticed the deep bruises and wicked cut above his son's brow. Something had happened and that was why Kenji was crying. His son was frightened.

He gathered the boy into his arms and stalked over to his master. He gasped slightly as he saw the deep wound on the man's shoulder. "You're hurt shishou," he stated, keeping the emotion out of his voice. The two men stared at each other in stony silence for a few moments.

"Baka kodomo there decided to take a swim in the river," Hiko finally replied, his lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval, "You really should teach him how to swim."

Kenshin frowned at his master, his hackles raising, "The river here isn't that deep," he pointed out. He knew far to well how deep the river was here, having been thrown in numerous times before.

Hiko narrowed his dark gaze, "Maybe not where you're thinking of my baka deshi, but up there it is." Hiko motioned to the river at the top of the falls, "Besides, the little whelp thought it would be a good idea to go for a joy ride over the edge of the falls as well. I was fairly certain he couldn't swim when I dove in, and I knew for a fact he couldn't fly…"

Kaoru made a sharp cry and put her hands over her mouth, while Yahiko and Misao sucked in their breath. Kenji almost died, that was apparent, but once again he miraculously came out barely scratched.

Kenshin stiffened and looked down at the boy in his arms, who had suddenly fallen asleep, his hands tightly twisted into his father's hair, a small, contented smile playing upon his lips. His master had saved the most precious thing in his life. Kenji would have surely died if it wasn't for Seijuro Hiko and for that, Kenshin owed his master his master everything. He bowed his head deeply, trying not to disturb his child, "I cannot thank you enough shishou, for all you've done for me. You have saved me twice over in this life time, my life is yours."

Hiko growled at his student, wanting nothing more than to grind the babbling idiot into the dirt under his boot, "Shut up Kenshin. You are such a moron! I didn't save chicchai riaon for you! Do you think I could honestly live with myself if I let a mere baby die in the river? Give me a little credit, I'm not completely heartless. I took you in didn't I!" Hiko brought his face up close to his students, "Besides, that boy is smart, which is more than I can say about you! He's trouble with a capital T, but smart none the less. It would be a waste for him to die so young."

Misao was fuming mad, her blue eyes blazing, "Hey! Kenshin is trying to thank you Hiko sama! You don't need to call him names and yell at him like that!" She gulped when Hiko fixed her with a dark, obsidian glare.

"Stay out this weasel girl," he barked, "You forget that I raised him. His over polite façade isn't fooling me one bit, so you can cut the crap baka deshi. You're an ignorant fool with the brains of a rabbit, but I wonder…how long did you know your whelp was up here with me?" Hiko knew the minute he saw his student that the man had left his son here on purpose. It was only obvious. Everyone was dressed in clean clothing, looking rested, well fed, and generally unfrantic about their smallest family member. It didn't take a genius to figure that out that Kenshin had left his son in his master's hands, with the motive of a just due justice, no matter how warped it seemed.

Kenshin almost smiled at his master's outburst. He should have expected as much, Hiko was highly intelligent, but Kenshin wouldn't give him the title of genius just yet. He did feel severely guilty that something horrible had happened, he had not expected both master and son to stare death in the face, and he had a feeling Kenji chan managed to stir up more trouble than just that awful incident._ "Chicchai raion? He's given him a pet name already. Master, you're more transparent than you know."_ Kenshin cleared his throat, and stared at his master with calm, unfazed violet eyes. "I'm sorry for the trouble Kenji has caused you master, I never expected something so awful to happen here. I honestly do appreciate you taking care of him for me. He was greatly missed. If you need anything from us, please feel free to ask. We are in your debt forever."

"At least let me bandage and clean that wound for you Hiko san," Kaoru offered, "It's the least I can do for you right now." Hiko shrugged and stalked off to the cabin with Kaoru following close behind.

Yahiko peered down at Kenji, smiling softly at his red haired brother. "I can't believe how lucky this kid is Kenshin. He could have died, but didn't. The gods smile on him, that's for sure." He reached down and smoothed away some of the matted hair, frowning at a sudden thought. "What happened to his clothes, I don't see them hanging out to dry anywhere."

Kenshin shrugged, he didn't care, and he doubted that his master would tell them the other tales of the boy's adventures. Hiko Seijuro had his pride. He tucked his son into his gi the best he could, briefly remembering when Kenji had been a mere baby, fitting inside his clothes nicely. His son was safe with him now and he'd never let him wander away again.

**********

Hiko stared at Kenshin as the rest of the group made their way down the mountain. His student held his son, who still slept, safely cradled halfway inside his gi. He had not once set him down or relinquished his hold on the child, not even when his wife offered to take the boy back with her. It was rare to see a father whose bond with a child ran deeper than the mother's, but Hiko could not deny that was apparent here. He actually had saved his students life by pulling the boy from the water. His silly student always was the symbolic fool, seeing his entire existence in the life of a baby, but Hiko couldn't blame him really. Kenji was particularly special. He had the ability to touch people inside their hearts, and those small fingers had his student's bound tightly within their grasp.

Once the others had gone, Hiko sat down upon his log and sighed. It was a silent offer for Kenshin to sit as well, and the man did so, placing himself carefully at the opposite end of the log, clutching his precious bundle close to his chest. His master cleared his throat a couple of times, and Kenshin stared at him curiously. It was a strange day when Hiko had difficulty finding the words he wanted to speak.

"Your child is a pain in the neck, Kenshin," Hiko started, his voice gruff and gravelly, "He's got a horrible temper, acts out irrationally, and is a magnet for trouble." He made an unconscious wave to the bathhouse, which Kenshin didn't understand.

"He's like me when I was young," Kenshin stated quietly.

Hiko grunted, "You give yourself far too much credit. You were eight when I found you, this boy is only three. He's far more spirited than you ever were. You'll have your hands full as he grows."

"Master, I know all this already."

"Shut up, I'm not finished!"

Kenshin rolled his eyes and wondered why he actually put up with his master's insufferable treatment.

"He's far smarter than you too. That boy has more cunning and wits in his little finger than you've managed to display in your entire lifetime. The difference between you two is he may get angry quickly, but he actually thinks through his actions. With lightening speed mind you. I saw what he did to that sake shop, it was amazing for a child of his age. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was my child and not yours."

Kenshin almost groaned, "Master, what are you getting at?" Kenshin wanted to go home, climb back into bed with his son, and sleep until it was time to catch the boat back to Tokyo.

Hiko gave an exasperated sigh, "Do I have to spell it out for you baka? He's an amazing child and your lucky to have him. Don't ever take your eyes off him for a second, and never let him go. Train him Kenshin, as I did you. It's the only way he'll ever become tame and know peace. He has the spirit of a phenomenal swordsman inside him."

Kenshin frowned at his master and shook his head slightly. "I cannot train Kenji in the Hiten Mitsurugi style, his body will be like mine, if not smaller. He would suffer the same fate as me if he ever used it."

"He won't have to use it as often Kenshin, if ever. This is a time of peace, but eventually, you'll have to let him choose. Kamiya Kasshin won't satisfy the spirit he has in him." Hiko could see his student's frown darken, "There's nothing wrong with the Kasshin style, it's a fine sword skill in its own, but this boy harbors an impressive spirit, he will make great things happen if given the proper tools."

Kenshin sighed and made a slight nod, "I'll consider it master, but nothing more than that. He's too small right now."

The two of them sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the forest around them for what seemed like eternity. 

"I should be going master," Kenshin stated finally, seeing the first signs of fireflies in the light of dusk.

Hiko only nodded, not bothering to move when Kenshin stood to leave. He glanced at the small boy in the man's arms and smiled softly to himself. He would see the boy again, that he was sure of, even if it meant traveling to Tokyo.

Kenshin made it several feet before his master's voice stopped him.

"I thought you were dead Kenshin."

Kenshin didn't bother to turn around, he smiled quietly and replied, "I'll send you a letter every now and then, if you like."

Hiko only answered with a disgruntled huff, but Kenshin only smiled wider. Yes, he'd send his master a letter from time to time, just to set the man's mind at ease. He even pondered the idea of bringing Kenji back with him next year and letting him stay with the man while he paid his yearly tribute to Tomoe. His master would like that, he was sure of it. It would give the tall man time to teach his son the lessons the father didn't want him to learn. Kenshin grinned wide and proceeded down the trail.

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Okay, I lied, I had to break this chapter up….I'm already pushing 4500 hundred words….the next chapter is the final one, for sure…As for Hiko advising Kenshin on teaching the boy Hiten Mitsurugi, I have no idea what style Kenji learns, but I figured it just fit into the fic, and no one said I was sticking to the original story perfectly….who knows what Kenji will learn in future fics….shrugs….I'm also a solid believer that Hiko cares about Kenshin more than he lets on…if he didn't, he would have never went to the Aoiya to save Kenshin's friends, nor would he have decided to teach him the final lessons left incomplete….I wish there was more of him in the story, he's a great character one of my top three that's for sure!


	13. Chapter 13

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This is it, for sure. It's a short chapter, pretty pointless, but I think it winds stuff up nicely.

Standard disclaimers apply

Chapter 13

"This stick of a child caused all the trouble?" Saito almost laughed as he looked at the Battousai's son, amazed at the state of the little boy who stood quietly inside the main room of the Aoiya. His arms and legs sported numerous bruises and scratches, and an ugly cut adorned his right brow. "He looks like a half starved kitten!"

"I dare you to pet him," Yahiko stated dryly, half hoping the arrogant police officer would take him up on that offer. By the gleam in Kenji's eyes, it was apparent he disliked Saito and would like nothing more than to kick him or bite him with those sharp baby teeth.

Saito smirked again and glanced at Yahiko, "Looks can be deceiving boy, I'll not fall for such a trick."

The Aoiya hummed with business, a small party being thrown for the safe return of Kenji. The smells of delicious food, sake, filled the room, along with the steady thrum of joyous chatter. People constantly prodded, hugged, and poked Kenji, passing him from person to person. He protested slightly, happy to be back among people who were familiar and friendly, but growing bored of all the attention.

Kenshin talked quietly with Aoshi and Saito, keeping a nervous eye on his son at all times. He would not risk losing the boy again, and his worries ran deep.

"So, Battousai, have you figured out how your whelp made it across the city and into the waiting hands of your master yet?" Saito asked, sipping tea from a glossy green cup.

Kenshin tore his eyes away from Kenji, "No, and we probably won't ever know. All that matters is he's here and safe now."

Saito raised a brow at his former enemy, "Knowing you, you'll have him tied to your waist until he comes of age."

"I don't blame him. Himura chan is a unique child. He's welcome here any time."

Both men sputtered into their teacups as Aoshi spoke freely. The icy former okashira rarely expressed dislike or like of anyone openly, but if he had been heard correctly, the stoic man had just offered to baby-sit for the Himura boy.

"Uh, thank you Shinomori san," Kenshin stuttered, "I'm sure Kenji would like that."

Saito shook his head, "You know Battousai, my children never give me any troubles. It's all about discipline, your son doesn't fear consequences because he has none. He'll grow up to disrespect you if you keep a light hand."

Kenshin could hardly imagine what Saito's children were like, he was amazed to discover the man actually had any at all, but he'd be damned if he was going to take parenting advice from the likes of him. "You don't know Kenji chan, Saito san, he doesn't take kindly to rough treatment." That was an understatement.

Saito scoffed, "He probably hasn't known any. I'm not saying beat the boy, Battousai, just show a little spine. My sons would never run off from me."

Kenshin took a sip of his tea and regarded Saito carefully. "You wouldn't last a week with my child, Saito." He dropped the honorific on purpose this time, to emphasis his point, "You have no idea what Kenji is capable of." Kenshin actually felt a little pride in his son's ability to drive people insane and take years off their life with his antics. He smirked at the idea of his greatest enemy beating beaten by a toddler, his toddler to be exact. "Raising a boy like Kenji requires patience and the wits. I can't punish him the way you suggest, it would only make him angrier. I have to outwit him."

"Humph," Saito huffed, glancing to where Kenji stood. The child was the picture of innocence, his wide eyes watching the people around him carefully, and a blank look hovering upon his face. The former shinsengumi captain found it difficult to believe that this was the same child that caused the massive destruction of a building and fought off the eldest son of one of the most nitrous Kyoto yakuza.

*********

Kenji was growing bored of the party and all the attention he was receiving. He glanced around the room, taking stock of the adults that were present and frowned. He recognized most of them, but there were others that he had no clue who they were. He watched his father sip tea and talk quietly with two other men, one of who Kenji didn't care for too much. He shrugged to himself and wandered out the back door of the building and into the courtyard, hoping to find some source of entertainment outside.

His eyes narrowed as he spied Yahiko sitting quietly next to the porch of the steps, obviously meditating or dozing off in the soft moonlight. Kenji thought about how much he'd missed his dark haired older brother and felt a grin play upon small lips.

**********

Yahiko stalked into the main room and to where Kenshin sat, his clothes dripping wet and a wriggling Kenji held by the back of his kimono in one hand. His dark eyes blazed with an angry fire, his mouth set in a hard line as he threw the squirming boy into his father's lap with more force than usual. He stared at Kenshin for a few moments, biting back the harsh words that roared in his head. Kenji righted himself in his father's lap and bared his teeth at the older boy.

The three men stared at the young samurai. Saito's cigarette dangled from his lips and Aoshi suppressed the wicked grin that threatened to break free of his stony demeanor. Kenshin, completely stupefied, gazed back at the angry boy, afraid to ask what had happened to his clothing. "Uh, Yahiko…"

"Don't ask Kenshin," the boy snapped before storming off in the direction of his room.

Kenji watched his brother leave over the shoulder of his father, grinning wickedly. His adventure had proved interesting, but nothing could compare to the contentment he felt when he was with his family. Things were back to normal, indeed.

*******

Hiko sat on his log, quietly listening to the crackling fire of the kiln and awaiting the arrival of an unexpected guest who was making their way up the trail. He had sensed their presence only moments ago and sighed at the disturbance of his now contented life. Things had been precariously quiet since the departure of his student and family. It took Hiko's shoulder several months to heal properly, a slight infection setting back the mending process, but all ended well except a dark purple scar he would now carry for life. 

"State your business." He didn't bother to turn around and greet the intruder. They were of no threat to him.

"Hello to you to Hiko sama," Misao replied acidly.

"What do you want girl," Hiko replied rudely, hoping the oniwaban woman wouldn't stay long.

Misao rolled her eyes at the man's back and dug into her pocket, "I bring you a letter from Tokyo. It was sent to the Aoiya with instructions to deliver it to you." She set the letter down on the log next to Hiko and started back down the trail. She expected nothing less of him, knowing he wasn't likely to offer her tea or something to eat for her kindness. It didn't matter, he was just Hiko Seijuro, it was nothing personal.

Hiko waited until he was certain she was gone and picked up the letter, staring at the messy writing on the front. _"Your handwriting is horrible baka deshi. I taught you better than that, I'm sure."_ He shrugged and opened the letter carefully, studying the words that were scratched onto the parchment:

__

Shishou,

All is well here in Tokyo. Kaoru and Yahiko continue to teach lessons at the dojo and around the city. I do odd jobs for the police off and on, but am content to stay at home and watch over Kenji chan. He asks about you often and demands I tell him stories. He's decided that you are his grandfather, which would seem fitting since you're the one who raised me, but I imagine he'll grow out of it, so do not concern yourself too much. He has a horrible fear of water now, which is not surprising considering the ordeal you both went through that day, but strangely, he's developed a phobia of mud as well. Kaoru and I are perplexed, but at least it keeps the child clean and out of the puddles. It makes our job easier. He hasn't grown much, but that isn't a surprise, he'll never be a large man. Once he's big enough, I will decide on what he needs to learn, your words will not leave me. Thank you again for your help and caring for my son.

Sincerely,

Himura Kenshin and family

Hiko smiled and tucked the letter inside his shirt pocket. He hadn't actually expected his apprentice to send a letter, but he imagined there'd be more later on in the year. It was a short and pointless note to say the least, but as Kenji chan grew things might become more interesting. He grinned as he thought about the child's phobia of mud and made a mental note not to tell Kenshin about the origin of the fear. _"Grandfather, huh?"_ Hiko thought to himself. He didn't picture himself as anyone's grandfather, the thought of it wasn't so bad, but he'd be damned if he'd ever let the boy call him that. It made him feel to old. He'd have to think of a more fitting name for himself. Hiko smiled again and closed his eyes, wondering briefly what his student and "grandson" were doing at that very moment.

__

Ahhh, the end! I left it wide open for a sequel as you can tell. I like Kenji and Hiko interaction, and I'm certain the two of them could have a lot more fun together in the coming years. Thank you to everyone who has read this fic and reviewed. You're all fantastic and so supportive. I apologize for my horrid spelling, even spell checker isn't good enough to catch them all….Ack!!!! I'm working on it…hopefully, with each fic, I'll get better and better….but who knows….sigh….Take care of yourselves everyone! Till next time!!!


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